


Check Mate

by Dancing_Fox



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Apparently it's now a submarine, Bottom Hanzo Shimada, Creative License, Hanzo is my emotional punching bag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I hope it's at least tasteful..., I just wanna hug Hanzo, I like doofs, I'll leave that to McCree, I'm so sorry Hanzo, Inner Demons, Kaosu and Wa, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shimada Dragons, There is sex in this, Top Jesse McCree, You've been warned, everyone hates the kettle, excessive sexual tension, fluff can only last so long, hanzo is a grump but I love him anyhow, it's not a ship it's a yacht, lamps can jump now, mccree is such a doof, naming the dragons, post-war PTSD, pretend it's all canon, seriously though...that damn kettle, you'll understand soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:36:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 46,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8928511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Fox/pseuds/Dancing_Fox
Summary: While Hanzo has prided himself on many things, he has always been his own worst enemy when it comes to self-loathing. When the day arrives that he finds a taste of harmony and balance in the most unlikely place, he is unsure of whether to flee or embrace it. The results delve him into situations he would never expect. (Post Overwatch recall)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure when or how I fell into McHanzo hell, but it happened, and it happened violently. (Okay, perhaps I'm just a bit overdramatic, there.) 
> 
> To be honest, I was nervous writing this. It's been nearly a decade since I wrote a fanfic for anything, let alone felt passionate enough about a ship to do so. I just absolutely adore these two, however. Something about them is so perfect. 
> 
> If m/m ships aren't your thing, then this is not the place for you to be. Turn back while you can!  
> This is going to be a LONG work with many chapters. I'm typically a novel writer, so short fics aren't my thing.  
> Comments are moderated to keep out the flames and the hatred. But please, by all means, drop a comment to show love and support and let me know I'm not alone in this silly obsession. <3 
> 
> Also, if anyone is interested in an accompanying playlist, then here ya' go: http://8tracks.com/neko-shimada/check-mate
> 
> Enjoy~!

_“More often than not, people have been known to reveal their true selves when faced with their opposites.”_

~ Kristin Bauer van Straten

 

 

Hanzo cringed as the sound of tinnitus-instigating gunfire at such a close proximity made his eardrums hurt. His teeth gritted and he briefly tossed a disapproving glance at the cowboy who was posted next to him while they waited in hopes to ambush the enemy when they came around the corner of the corridor.

“What?” McCree raised a brow and looked at him in manner of oblivious confusion.   
  
Hanzo simply shook his head and turned away. It was a conversation that had occurred between them on many occasions. While he was more than knowledgeable of how to handle most forms of firearms, the lack of finesse and stealth that came with guns was never something that appealed to him. His past had granted him the luxury of learned any firearm he could find, but guns...so barbaric.

 “I hate it when ya do that, yanno’.”

“Hmm?” Hanzo didn’t budge to face him, but continued to peer around the corner to scout while half-handedly acknowledging the statement.

“That,” McCree explained, pointedly, a touch of annoyance now apparent in his husky voice.

That got his attention. The archer finally faced him, curiously, yet irritated at the distraction in their mission. His voice snipped, sharply. “What do you mean?”

 The cowboy holstered his weapon and crossed his arms over his flannel-clad chest. “That attitude of yers; always actin’ all high ‘n mighty around me. You got some problem with me that you wanna’ address? If so, I’m all ears.”

 Hanzo’s mind reeled for a moment. “Right now?” He hissed as he glanced in the direction they were supposed to be keeping a look out on, then back at McCree, frowning. “This is hardly the proper time and place for such a conversation, gunslinger.” 

 While Jesse McCree was a man of many words, and looked as though he was about to come back with some witty line or clever point...he simply sighed and nodded once in defeated response.

Hanzo eyed him for a brief time, then, satisfied, focused back on the mission at hand.

 

Later that evening, or closer to morning, to be exact, the team tiredly but victoriously drifted back into the base. Hanzo felt utterly exhausted and the sound of the chatter and cheerful yells was starting to grant him a headache. Sure, he enjoyed success as much as the next person, but he did not revel in it. To him, it was not becoming of a person to boast their victories for too long. Still, he respected his peers and let them celebrate their joy. It was a rare thing, anymore, after all.

He quietly excused himself as he slipped his bow over his shoulder and left the room. The airlock closed behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief at the silence. The long hall before him was dark, the only source of light being that from the subtle moonbeams creeping in through the rounded windows. It was eerily peaceful, though.

His footfalls were light and nearly silent as he dutifully made his way back in the direction of his personal quarters. It was a long day and he was anxious to collect his thoughts and meditate for a while before finally getting some sleep. There were a few moments of the previous day he wanted to reflect on once he was in a better frame of mine. 

“Takin’ off so soon?”

Hanzo startled at his doorway and nearly dropped his bow in the process when he clawed for it. He twirled around, tensed to draw an arrow from his quiver. Then frowned. How had the man managed to actually sneak up on him? Normally his spurs could be heard a mile away. There was nothing low-key about him. “McCree…”

The cowboy tipped his hat in greeting, lips quirked in amusement that came along is a charming smile. “I’ve had warmer welcomes.”

Forcing away the unease that was settling in him, Hanzo returned his bow to its resting place over his shoulder and just gave his comrade a deadpan expression. “What do you want?”

McCree just looked at him for a couple seconds, then half-heartedly shrugged. “You left. I followed. Was wonderin’ when was considered a "proper time ‘n place" in yer lil mind.”

He’d followed him? Again, the nerve-wracking possibility that he’d been snuck up on irked at Hanzo.

“What are you talking about?” he sighed.

“From earlier? Our conversation?” McCree gave him a funny look.

Hanzo blinked one single time, then remembered it. Their exchange from before was coming back to him now, but he was feeling drained and the idea of continuing it didn’t sound very appealing. “This is not that time.”

He turned around to reach for the button to open the door to his room, but froze as McCree shifted over to stand in his way.

“Then when _is_ that time?” he pried, pointedly, not backing down as he propped his arm on the wall, not blocking him from accessing the entry control pad.    

Hanzo started to tense again, uncomfortable at such a direct question or from the other male's obvious display of domination...if he could even call it that. He stood taller than him, more broad, but Hanzo did not find him intimidating. “I…another day. Now, if you will please move? I grow tired…”

“Yer always tired. Or so you say.” McCree still didn’t budge from his stance.

At this point, the cowboy’s determination was nearly mind boggling to him. Hanzo glared, slightly, then just shook his head again. They’d has this sort of confrontation on several incidents and he was growing weary of it. Perhaps if he just humored him, this one time, he would leave him alone.  “Fine,” he muttered.

They stood there for a drawn out moment and he sighed in exasperation, waving a hand for McCree to move. “Well? Get out of the way, first.” 

“Oh.” McCree's eyes lit up. He seemed surprised, but he did just that, stepping aside for Hanzo to type in his key code to unlock the door.

There was quiet hiss as the pressure mechanisms on the door released and it slid open. Hanzo let out a soft breath in relief as the lingering scent of previously burnt sandlewood incense and familiar smells hit him, welcomingly. He motioned for his guest to follow as he stepped into the room and gingerly hung his bow on the hook just inside the door that was standardly intended to hold coats.

Behind him, he watched as McCree ventured in. He had an amazed expression as he gawked around, not even startling as the door nearly closed on the heels of his boots. “Wow.”

“Wow?” Hanzo repeated questioningly as he walked to the opposite side of the main room and lit a new incense stick.

The cowboy nodded and took off his hat, probably in a mannerly gesture. “All fancy-like in here. Wasn’t really expecting that.” His eyes darted around to the various silk scrolls and ornamental statues that decorated the cold galvanized steel walls and surfaces.

“I found the original conditions to be chilling and underwhelming,” Hanzo explained simply as he carried the burning incense to a ritual pedestal where there were already a variety of other objects surrounding it, in front of a kneeling pad, intent for meditation.

“Huh. Well, never come to my room. Ain’t nothin’ compared to this.”

Hanzo raised a delicate brow and knelt on the mat. “I had no intentions of such a thing.” He watched curiously as the cowboy began to explore around, observing all the different ornaments.

“What’s this?” He hesitantly lifted a small jeweled statue, seeming surprised at the weight from it being carved of stone.

“That is Amaterasu Omikami.”

“Ah.” He sat is back down. “Uh. Right. Sure. I…uh…shoulda’ known that, I think.”

Somewhat amused now, Hanzo quirked a slight smirk. “She is the Shinto takamagaharu goddess of the sun.”

“Oh!” He quickly sat it back down, as if suddenly finding it priceless. “Got it.”

After observing him for another few breaths, Hanzo looked away and closed his eyes, taking in the soft incense and allowing himself to begin to relax. “Well, gunslinger? You came to speak your mind, did you not?”   

“Yeah, I suppose I did.” 

Hanzo cracked an eye while he noted him shuffling closer, as if debating on sitting on the floor near him. Finally, he grabbed a chair from the small wooden table near the wall, pulling it over and sitting to straddle the back of it.

“Speak it, then.”

McCree was quiet for a spell, then noisily cleared his throat. “Well. I guess I’m just wonderin’ what the deal is with you.”

“Deal?”

“Yeah. I mean, sometimes I think everyone’s here's cool with one another – I mean, sure, we all got out differences, but we still get along – then you go all hoity toity on us.” He paused. “Well, usually just me. I’m wonderin’ what’s up with that.”

Hanzo opened his eyes fully now, trying to sort out the unique manner and dialect of the other man’s speech. At times he felt Jesse's speech was so frustrating to sort out. “Hoity toity?” He frowned.

“You know…  Actin’ like yer better than me and the like. I think I’m doin’ great, then you go and act all condescending or somethin’. Like yer trying' to make me doubt myself.”

Hanzo thought about that, then looked away. “I see.”

After what must have been a period of waiting for further response than that, McCree pursed his lips when there was none. “You _do_ think yer better than me, don’t ya?”

“Not particularly,” Hanzo explained. His tone was quiet and carefully void of emotion. “There are just certain methods…your crude weaponry and your loud words.”

“Yeah?” McCree chuckled. “That’s called clashin.’ Doesn’t make anyone better than one another or give ‘em a need to snark at how they are. Just means we’re all different.”

“Perhaps.” Hanzo thought on that as well. “It does not mean I need to understand it. You call my bow old-fashioned, but I still land more shots than you, quite easily. I choose success over personal preference.”

“Hey now.” The cowboy smiled. “I’m a pretty darn good shot and you know it, darlin’.”

“That may be, however - ” Hanzo paused and looked over at McCree. “Must you?”

“Huh?”

Hanzo looked away again, focusing his attention on the pedestal. “The nicknames.”

Mcree grinned. “What? Darlin’? Oh, c’mon now. It’s better than honey or sugarpie. Unless you’d prefer one a’ them instead.”

Hanzo felt himself fluster, despite himself. “Or none of them.”

“Uh huh.” The chair tipped a little closer as the cowboy’s voice dropped a level. “Then why ya’ turnin’ red?”

He hadn’t even been aware of the blush that had crept onto his cheeks, and having it noticed only intensified it. Hanzo stood, casually attempting to brush any dust from his clothes. “I think it is time for you to leave, gunslinger.”

Sure enough, the cowboy stood, as well. “I see how it is.” He smirked. There was a roguish vibe of satisfaction in it that Hanzo found unsettling. “You get to call me a pet name, but I don’t get ‘ta call you one.”

Hanzo’s arms crossed. “A gunslinger is what you are. I, however, and not your darling. So, yes.”

McCree chuckled at that. “Fair enough. Ya’ know, though…”

“Please leave.”

“Your loss.” McCree smirked and popped his hat back on his head. “Have a good night, Shimada.”

Hanzo said nothing as the other man saw himself out. His mind felt even more now clustered than before. The conversation had been less than productive and more embarrassing than anything else. He took a heavy breath and put the chair back in its place and snuffed out the incense. He would focus on it more, tomorrow. For now, all he wanted was sleep.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tossing the second one up here for anyone who made it through chapter one already. If you're reading this, I'm happy you've decided to stick around! 
> 
> (I've already gotten a big chunk of this tale written, but I'm trying to properly edit and proofread it all before posting. Even still, I apologize for any typos and grammatical errors.)
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_"I think there's a part in each one of us that wants the impossible to happen, and that's what surprises are."_  
~ Gina Carano

 

The wind outside was ripping with such intensity that the windows along the sides of the base actually rattled. Quite a feat considering the airlock stability of them. Hanzo stood at one of the hall windows, hid hands hands clasped behind his back as he watched the storm outside with an appreciative admiration for nature. It had been snowing for the entire day and the weather had recently thrown a blizzard in their general direction. He was grateful he had nowhere he was required to go at the moment. Even if he had, he would object anyhow.

They were facing a slow period, which all things considered, was a promising sign. Any suspicious or criminal activity was on a halt – possibly due to the weather. Possibly coincidence. Possible a combination of the two. Lena and Hana, among several others, had departed back to their usual mundane routines away from base. They were only a call away from returning, but for now there wasn't much reason for the entire team to remain holed up, going stir-crazy. Hanzo stayed. There was little for him to take part in, anymore. There were no longer any clan duties or grand purposes for him to fulfill away from this place. For now, this _was_ his life. This was all he had.

He sighed soundlessly as he tried pull his mind from the downward spiral of pessimistic thoughts. The only negative thing about having so much free time over the past week was the ability to constantly dwell on depressing or morbid memories. At least when events were happening, he found a distraction from it. There was no distraction now.

He lurked alone down the halls, savoring the silence of a half-abandoned base. He spared a moment to glance at the array of chaotic multi-colored lights that coated Hana’s doorway, framing a scribbled sign that said, “home for the holidays.” Such festivities were practically alien to him, but he found himself envying those who were partaking in these holidays that had made it this homelands in the last decade.

Resigned, he finally turned down the hall, back toward his own quarters. He stepped inside the dormitory and paused as the door closed behind him, leaning back against it and taking a moment to collect himself.

“What are you doing?” he whispered to himself, bitterly scolding his mind for the train of emotions it was leading him into. “This does no one any good…”

Tea. Tea would be nice. He made his way to his kitchenette and sat his copper kettle on the stove burner while he went to the cabinet to grab a mug. Halfway there, he froze, glancing to the sink.

He peered into the stainless steel basin, puzzled. Ashes? Why were there ashes in his sink? Growing suspicious, Hanzo narrowed his eyes and looked around. Someone had been in here. Someone who smoked. He turned the stove off, listening.

“Show yourself!”

He hastily crossed the kitchen, back in the direction of the main room to retrieve his bow, then startled as someone stepped around the corner, into the doorway, causing them to collide. The smell of cigarettes and musk crashed into his nose. He yelped in surprise and leapt back into a defensive stance.

The visitor laughed, vibrating with mirth.

Hanzo glared daggers at him. “Jesse McCree,” he hissed. “What are you doing in here?”

The cowboy shrugged as he adjusted the folded cuff of his plaid sleeve. “I was bored.”

“HOW did you get in here?” Hanzo straightened back up, anger beginning to overwhelm his shock.

“Magic,” McCree replied with a taunting smirk. “What’cha doin’?”

“Get out.”

“Nope.”

“Why?” More glaring. Hanzo was stewing now.

“Don’t wanna.” As if to concrete his point, he stepped back into Hanzo’s main room and flopped down heavily onto the sofa that sat at the edge of the domicile.

Hanzo stared at the cowboy, utterly baffled, then began frowned. “You have quite a lot of nerve…”

“Yer not the first to have that.” McCree just grinned, obviously quite pleased with himself.

Hanzo knew he should have been highly offended by all of this. He _should_ have fought up a storm about the obvious intrusion. He _should_ have argued at the invasion of his privacy. This was completely ridiculous. Why would he come here? What could he want? He _should_ be demanding answers. But, instead…

“Fine,” he said quietly, quickly walking back into the kitchen to turn the stove back on. An unwanted guest wasn’t going to keep him from his tea. He wasn't sure why he was so easily giving in to defeat - that alone bothered him. 

He went about his set routine of waiting for the water to boil before prepping his cup, then turned the burner off and sulked his way back into the main room. McCree was still sitting on the sofa, flipping through a brochure that had been resting on the end table. Hanzo hesitated for a instant as he watched him, knowing what he was looking at, then walked over and sat at the far opposite end of the sofa.

“This was it, wasn’t it? That was yer’ place.” McCree held up the historical society brochure, pointing at the picture of Shimada Castle on the front that read ‘Visit Hanamura today’ in bold lettering.

“It _was_ ,” Hanzo said, simply, putting extra emphasis on the ‘was.’

“Nice place.”

He simply nodded, looking away. What could he really say to that? It likely was still quite nice, even if it was nothing more than a landmark now. “Indeed.”

“Got those pink trees all over the place?”

“Pink…? Ah. The Cherry blossoms. Yes.” Hanzo smiled, just slightly, thinking about them. “There is even a festival every year, based around them.”

“That so?” McCree finally sat the brochure back down. “Ya’ ever plan to go back for it?”

“Unlikely.” He carefully sipped the tea, wondering how he would even be able to get away with returning for something like that. It was a shame, really. While he wasn't keen on festivities, he had fond childhood memories of his family visiting the cherry blossom festival, every year. It was one of the few times the whole of them seemed to get along and actually enjoy themselves. 

“Uh.” The cowboy nodded. “Right. I guess not.”

They sat in an awkward silence for a time. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. In fact, it gave Hanzo time to recollect himself, and, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was somewhat grateful for the company. Normally he could not wait to escape the fusses of social interaction, but with the building so desolate, there hadn't been anyone to drive him to that point yet.

“How did you get get in here?” Hanzo finally repeated, curiously giving in.

McCree chuckled. It was a low and resonating sound that send a chill up Hanzo's spine. “Darlin’, please. Ya’ punched in the code right in front of me. Ya’ actually expect me not to look?”

“Yes.” Hanzo refused to make eye contact with him. “A considerate being would not do so. And cease that. You know I dislike it.”

“Sure thing, darlin’.”

Hanzo twitched, slightly, but held his tongue, silent.

McCree took off his hat and plopped it on the side table, making himself comfortable. “Why you still here, anyhow? Most all the rest took off days ago.”

“Why are _you_ still here?” Hanzo evaded the question with one of his own. 

“Ain’t got nowhere else to go. Figured I’d stay somewhere where I’m at least halfway welcomed.” As he spoke, McCree reached into his pocket and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. 

Hanzo took another sip of his tea, then bobbed his head once as he eyed the tobacco carton. “Then we are one in the same, in that sense.”

“Fair enough.” The cowboy brazenly lit a smoke and glanced around, apparently noticing the lack of television of any other form of technological entertainment. “So what do ya’ do in here, all day? Don’t ya’ get bored?”

Hanzo shook his head and gestured to the bookcase on the opposite side of the room. “No. I have more than enough to entertain my mind with.”

McCree scrunched his nose a little, not convinced. “That’s a…nice…I guess.”

His posture similar to that of a hornet braced to sting if needed, Hanzo just sat there with his cup in hand. The hush had grown thick between them again when he finally reached over with a lightening quick motion and snatched the cigarette from McCree's lips. The cowboy jolted at the movement. He proceed to snuff it out in a used incense dish on his side table. "No."

"M'kay, then. No smoking. Got it."  

At that moment, the wind roared outside, so violently that it was heard from inside the room - a feat that was quite remarkable given the amount of metal that housed them all. Hanzo looked upward, frowning. The blizzard was getting more intense. “Perhaps--”

Before he could finish the statement, the room went pitch black. The hum of the base’s technology went dead silent in an eerie manner. It was followed by a single beep of a backup security system kicking on.

“Uh…” 

Hanzo sighed.

“That's unexpected.” McCree drawled the obvious.

“Quite.” He carefully stood, making his way off the couch and gingerly feeling his way over to the small pedestal. There were an assortment of candles there, if he could only find them…

There was a sudden shattering crash behind him, followed by a quiet cursing and “I’m fine, I’m fine! Ignore that.”

“If you could not destroy my quarters, gunslinger, I would be most grateful,” Hanzo muttered through gritted teeth. It was dark. Why had he even tried to move?

“Ain’t my fault!” McCree’s voice chimed out. “That lamp just jumped out at me.”

Hanzo frowned as he finally lit a few of the candles. “Perhaps you should take it upon yourself to check on anyone else who is still here and go destroy their rooms, instead.”

The dimly lit silhouette of McCree shifted away from the bits of broken lamp and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Fair enough,” he chuckled, bashfully. “I can tell when I’m not wanted anymore.” He picked up his hat and made his way to the door, reaching for the key pad. “Have a good night, Shimada.”

“Mhm.”

There was a pause of silence. Hanzo looked over his shoulder and watched the cowboy standing by the door for a long moment.

“So.” McCree cleared his throat and turned to face him.

“Is there a problem?” Why was he still here?

“Yeah, so. The…uh…door is locked.”

“Yes, and?” Hanzo looked annoyed, then stopped, understanding. The power was out. The door was electronic. He sighed, yet again.

“Looks like yer stuck with me a while longer, darlin’.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here and still reading, you're a rockstar to me. I hope all of you are enjoying this. :)  
> Now that we've gotten the intro outta' the way, things 'er gonna' get good  
> (Gah...I can't stop typing like McCree now.)
> 
> Also, lamps can jump. The more you know. 
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  
_"True strength lies in submission which permits one to dedicate his life, through devotion, to something beyond himself."_

~ Henry Miller

 

 

It was quite remarkable that it took less than twenty moments for Hanzo to find himself shocked at how the qualities that he had started to find in the cowboy to be intriguing, to transition to tediously irritating. The lack of electricity in the base could easily be at his own gain to personally focus on some meditation, or even catch up on the candlelit reading. McCree, however, was pacing the room in a bothersome repetition.

“Could you please calm yourself?”

“C’mon, I’m going stir crazy here!” Whatever stealthy tactic he’d used to creep up on Hanzo in the past was gone now, his boots melodically jingling with every step he took. Every. Single. Step.

Hanzo’s hands clenched as he knelt by his pedestal, eyes closed. Finding any place of zen was clearly becoming infuriatingly impossible. “Then could you at least stop pacing? Or at least remove those hideous boots.”

McCree scoffed heavily. Unexpectedly, Hanzo heard the sound of the boots being tossed by the door, one thump at a time…and then the pacing continued. At least his steps were significantly quieter now.

“Who makes a place functioning fully on electronics, but doesn’t think to make a back up to keep people from bein’ locked in their rooms? Makes no damn sense, I tell, ya.”

Hanzo took a breath, letting it out slowly, trying to remain calm, eyes still shut. “Perhaps there is one. I doubt any of us who remain know such codes or where to input them, however.”

The explanation must have made sense to McCree, because he went quiet for a while. To Hanzo's dismay, it was short-lived. McCree settled on the couch. Then roamed to the kitchen. Then back to the couch. Then eventually, he walked over and sat down beside Hanzo.

Hanzo open his eyes a crack and examined him. “Can I help you?”

“How do ya’ do that? Just…clearin’ yer mind and stuff, I mean.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand it.”

“Practice,” the archer explained, simply. “Focus.”

McCree was unconvinced. He made an awkward face, scrunching his lips in a perplexed manner “I dunno if I could do that- Just go all mellow and let my problems go away. Seems too complicated.”

Now Hanzo looked at him with a combination of amusement and sincerity. “Ah, that is not quite the way of meditation. It does not make problems “go away.” It simply makes it easier to handle them with greater clarity.”

“Huh. Maybe I should try that.” He seemed pleased with the actual explanation, rather than a snide remark.

Unexpected. Hanzo nodded once with agreement. “Perhaps you should.”

He watched at McCree scooted a little closer and began to imitate Hanzo’s postures best he could. Where Hanzo was lithe and small of frame, McCree was more stocky and broad. The position that Hanzo looked so naturally comfortable in looked out of place on the cowboy. Still, it was something...

Hanzo smiled, just a bit, then closed his own eyes again, beginning to relax in the quiet. This was much better, finally.

“Yeah, that ain’t happening.” McCree quickly stood and stretched.

Hanzo looked up at him, his jaw dropping. “You barely even attempted anything!”

“I know,” McCree admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “But I really ain't good at sittin’ still. Not unless I have a beer in my hand or I’m asleep.”

“How…endearing.” The words twisted in distaste on Hanzo's tongue.

“Don’t be judgin’ me, now.” McCree gave him a pointed look, then walked over to the couch, flopping down on it and pulling out a deck of playing cards from his pocket.

Hanzo watched him as he laid them out in a specific pattern, obviously playing some type of game with himself, then the archer looked away, glancing to the time. It was nearly midnight. It was becoming clear to him that this was a situation that was not going to be resolved before the end of the night. Any success at meditation was also a fruitless effort. With a silent trickled breath of defeat, he slowly picked up one of the waning candles and silently excused himself from the room.

He made his way down the short corridor of his quarters and into the small bathroom, closing the door. He doubted the hot water would be working properly if there was no electricity to heat the tank, so he dismissed the thought of a shower and simply changed into his black silk robe before before releasing his hair from it's sash and brushing it out. He wasn’t accustomed to having “guests,” but given the circumstances, he felt under no obligation to entertain the other man for any longer, tonight. He shouldn't have even been in here in the first place, after all. 

After going about his usual nightly routine, he picked the candle back up and opened the door, stepping back out into the hall. He froze midstep as McCree stood in his path.

“Turnin’ in, then?” There was a hint of a grin with his words.

“Indeed.” Hanzo said curtly as he stepped past him and into the bedroom, setting the candle on his beside table. “I trust you will know to put out the rest of the flames before you sleep. I would not prefer to have my quarters burnt down overnight.”

“Aww, how come? Sounds exciting.” He chuckled.

“Yes. Exhilarating.” With sarcasm evident in his voice, he picked up a folded blanket from the foot of the bed and walked over, handing it to McCree. “Here. I expect the couch will be comfortable enough for you.”

Hanzo wasn't sure if he had picked up on the hint of dismal in his previous comment. He waited for an inappropriate reply. McCree took the blanket from him and just smiled. “You should wear yer hair down more often. It really suits you.”

“I…” Hanzo blinked, uncertain of how to reply to that, properly.

“Just hush and take the compliment, darlin’.” His voice softened a little with the statement.

Before Hanzo could respond, McCree winked at him, then smiled and walked out of the room.

With a pensive expression, he closed the door and shut himself in for the night.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

The singularly true disapproval that Hanzo had with living on a base was that there were no windows in the specific living quarters. The only windows were in the halls. This meant that, unless there happened to be a clock readily present, he never knew exactly what time it was.

He opened his eyes and yawned, softly. Habitually, he glanced in the direction of his own alarm clock, but it was solid darkness. There were no lit LED numbers shining at him, so he made the assumption that the power must have still been out. How frustrating. With a groggy sigh, he buried his face back in his pillow and closed his eyes. He had no idea if he’d had a full night’s sleep or if he’d only been out for an hour or two.

Regardless of the time, Hanzo was reluctant to move. He felt more comfortable than usual at the moment, though he had no idea why. He’d half expected to wake up cold from a debilitated heating system, but he was quite warm and comfortable right now. Even with the soft snoring behind him.

Wait.

His entire body tensed up and his eyes snapped open, regardless of nothing but darkness to greet them. He was suddenly _very_ aware of the body sleeping next to him. He shifted to reach for the lighter to spark the candle on his bedside, but was trapped by the arm wrapped around him.

“McCree…!” He hissed. How  _dare_ he venture into here.

“Mmm?” The other man mumbled in his sleep and his arm pulled Hanzo tighter against his body.

Hanzo flailed in a panic. “MCCREE!”

“Huh? What?” The cowboy jolted up, instinctively fast. In the act, the pull of his arm cracked the other man upside face.

“Ouch! You buffoon!”

“What’s going on? What’d I miss?!” His sleep-laden voice cracked from the hasty awakening. 

“Miss?!” Hanzo scowled and reached over, lighting the candle. He turned to glare at McCree. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

McCree just shrugged and yawned deeply, running his fingers through his tousled ruddy brown hair. “Well, I _was_ sleeping. You?”

Hanzo started to seethe, but took a deep breath to calm himself. “Why in _my_ bed?”

“Was cold out there,” the cowboy muttered as if it was a common sense sort of answer and just flopped back down into the mattress, making himself comfortable again. He stretched with a noisy sound and tucked his arm back under the pillow he'd stolen..

Hanzo tenderly rubbed his nose where he’d been hit, glowering. “Get out.”

In a smug response, McCree simply closed his eyes and smiled. “Go back to sleep, darlin’.”

“Stop. Calling me. That.” Remaining calm was becoming more and more increasingly difficult. Frustrated and far too tired to deal with this any further, Hanzo threw the blankets off himself with the intent of moving out to the couch. He was immediately greeted with an unwelcoming draft of cold and shivered involuntarily. He yanked the blanket back, quickly. This couldn’t be happening.

“Told ya.”

“Shut up,” he scowled and laid back down, wrapping the blankets tightly around himself. He didn’t hear, but actually felt the vibrations of McCree's chuckle. It was infuriating how calmly the cowboy was handling this. His advances on his personal space were so casual that they were insulting.

“Calm down and just go back to sleep,” McCree repeated.

“I said, shut up.”

“M’kay.” He curled his arm back around Hanzo, where it had previously been.

Hanzo immediately moved to shove his arm away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The cowboy let out a heavy breath, as if somehow _he_ was being inconvenienced by this. “Look. It’s cold. You were warm. I was warm. I kinda’ wanna’ _keep_ bein’ warm.”

So, this was hell. Interesting. Hanzo just slunk into further defeat – he’d done that a lot, lately, it seemed – and closed his eyes. He didn’t argue the point. As horrid as it was to admit, he had been very comfortable. And sure enough, as moments passed, the warmth built back up beneath the covers and he found it surprisingly pleasant. That is, until the arm around him pulled him nearer. “Don’t push it,” he whispered.

“Yer a tough nut to crack, Shimada. You know that?”

Hanzo closed his eyes, beginning to calm again. “What makes you say that?”

“Nothin’,” the cowboy replied. “Just… g’night.”

And that should have been the end of it. They should have gone back to sleep, right then and there. They should have woken up and let everything return to normal…but, Hanzo thought on that statement. A thousand different scenarios rolled in his mind as to the meaning behind it.

Finally, he shifted his position and rolled over to his other side to face his intruder. “Tell me.”

McCree opened his eyes and looked at him. “Hmm?”

“A tough nut to crack – what do you mean by that? Tell me.”

He thought he saw a flicker of surprise at the curiosity, but it was fleeting. McCree just chuckled again, hushed. “Ya just are. I mean…yer so closed off. I never know what to expect of ya. I can’t predict ya at all.”

“And many would consider that to be a strength.”

“Yeah,” McCree nodded in agreement at that. “Suppose so. Makes some things a little difficult, though.”

Hanzo was internally scolding himself at his intrigue with the conversation. He couldn’t help it. While the majority of his being was loathing all of this, contemplating all the different ways that he could injure this man, there was another part of him that...well... “Difficult? What things?”

The cowboy looked pensive for a moment, even in the dim candlelight, as if choosing his words carefully. “I mean, most people I kinda’ know what their reactions are gonna’ be with how I act around ‘em. You, I never really know. So I tread carefully, from time to time.”

Hanzo’s brow raised in disbelief. “You actually call how you act around me to be “treading carefully?”

McCree chorted, shortly. “Yeah. I do.”

Hanzo frowned a bit. He secretly hated the fact that his attitude was apparently causing his peers to behave differently, simply to accommodate him. It made him wonder how many others might be doing the same. An entire spiral of memories flooded back to him – the way Lena darted away when he seemed upset, the way his own brother sighed at his outbursts, the distance their group usually gave him, and now this. They were either avoiding him or walking on eggshells, it seemed. He didn’t want that.

“You alright, darlin’? Didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”

Hanzo shook his head. “It is fine. I just...I do not wish anyone to restrain themselves on my behalf. I have done my best to work on my disposition, but clearly it is not enough.”

“Yer disposition is fine. In fact, I kinda’ like it.” The cowboy reached over and brushed a stray lock of hair from Hanzo’s face. “Don’t go changin’ to appease folks.”

The action caught Hanzo by surprise, and he recoiled slightly. “Thank you, but how am I to do that when others will not?”

McCree smiled. “Hey, be careful tellin’ people to act how they want. Ya never know what’ll happen after all.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “I am not particularly worried.”

Smile quirking, McCree leaned in a bit closer to the other man. “You sure about that?”

“McCree?” Hanzo tensed, looking at him. What was he doing? His eyes widened a little.

He leaned in closer and just when Hanzo’s reflex to flee was about to spring into action, McCree lifted a fingertip and placed it on his lips. “Shh,” he whispered, softly. “Relax. Go to sleep, darlin’.”

Hanzo just stared in conflict as the realizations continued to dawn on him, too startled to even argue it when the arm just comfortably moved back around him and pulled him close.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still here? Thank you. I must be doing something right. Go down with the ship with us. <3 
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_"I can resist everything except temptation."_

~ Oscar Wilde

 

The next morning arrived in somewhat of a haze. Hanzo awoke, sitting up with a jerk of sudden awareness. He had looked over and saw the bed was now empty. It confused him since he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed by that. Wait.  _Why_ would he be disappointed? He pushed the ridiculous thought aside and chalked it up to his sleep-shadowed mind. 

The alarm clock was now blinking 12:00 in a repetitive pattern. He exhaled happily at the sign, forgetting his prior discontent. The power was back on. Perhaps McCree had already departed back to his own doings. That would please Hanzo, being able to place this whole awkward situation behind them.

As he drifted out of the bedroom, he paused. The bathroom door was closed and he could hear the sound of a running shower. He was showering here? _Truly_?

Hanzo frowned and made his way into the kitchen, tying his robe tighter around himself while he set the copper kettle on the burner to prepare his morning tea.

At that moment, a knock on his door startled him so unexpectedly that he nearly dropped the canister of tea leaves in his hands. He cursed and carefully sat it down, heading out of the kitchen and over to the door. He nearly whimpered in relief as the key pad buttons responded joyously to his command code. There was a beep, then a hiss of the pressure releasing, and the door slid open.

Hanzo raised both eyebrows in surprise at the man who stood before him, his back stiffening. “Genji?”

“Brother.” He nodded once in pleasant greeting.

“Can I help you?” His carefully kept his voice monotone. Genji did not visit him often, and when he did there was always a tension present. Over time, it seemed to have mostly remained only on Hanzo's behalf. 

“I was checking to make sure you were well. I know many were forcefully kept in their rooms overnight.” 

Hanzo could think of many words to describe how his night had gone. 'Well,' would not have been near the top of his list. “I am fine,” he replied, holding back an improper yawn since he wasn’t fully awake.

“Good, good.” The cyborg man glanced around, then tilted his head a little in the direction where the shattered remains of the lamp were still strewn across the floor. There hadn't exactly been an opportunity to clean them up yet, after all. “Are…you certain?”

Hanzo followed his gaze, still trying to keep his expression stoic, lest it betray him. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Positive. It was simply an interesting night. I am well, though. Thank you for checking.”

Genji just continued to peer around. “Is that Jesse’s hat?”

Hanzo’s lips pursed. Of course he would leave that just sitting out in the open. “Goodbye, brother. We will follow up this conversation, later.”

“But…?”

At that moment, as if the timing couldn’t be any more awkward, Hanzo tensed while the sound of the bathroom door opening clicked through the room.

“Oh, sweet, the power’s back on?” 

Hanzo and Genji just stared at one another as that unmistakable smooth southern voice sang out. 

Sure enough, McCree came walking into the room. He was clad in nothing but a pair of unbuttoned jeans and one of Hanzo's pale blue towels around his shoulders, his hair wet and dripping. “Ah, howdy, Genji. Good morning n’ all that.”

There was a tone of amusement in the cyborg’s voice. “It is one in the afternoon.”

McCree shrugged. “Close enough.”

Hanzo eyed McCree's state of dress- or lack there of, rather. It was completely uncalled for. His unease grew like a lump in the back of his throat and cleared it, as if it would actually help. “My brother was just leaving.”

“It seems I was.” There was a sound from beneath the mask that might have been a near-silent laugh. “Until later, Hanzo.” He nodded to the other. “Jesse.”

Genji had barely stepped away from the entry when Hanzo jammed the code in and the door slammed shut. He exhaled a breath that he’d had no idea he was even holding in.

“You…uh…alright there?”

Hanzo rested his forehead against the cold metal of the door, eyes closed. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself from glaring. “No.”

“What’s up?”

He looked over and watched the other man drying his chaotically hair with a towel, then just shook his head. "You truly have no shame, do you?" While it may have sounded like an insult, there was no hostility behind in the words. It was simply an observation. “That…may cause some disruption.”

“How so?” McCree's brow furrowed while he looked at him, slinging the towel back over his shoulders. There was a look of honest obliviousness on his face that was making it difficult for Hanzo to actually be angry about the situation, despite himself. 

Hanzo spared a glance at his guest without thinking much on it. McCree had his fair share of battle wounds that he'd acquired over the years. There had been no way in which he'd have seen any of them before this moment. Some of them had long since healed, but others still more boldly striped over his tanned skin than others. There was a particularly noticeable one on his chest that peaked Hanzo's curiosity. He realized he was staring and looked away before the other male could notice. “My brother does not know how to keep his mouth shut, however true or fabricated his observations may be. I expect it won’t be long before there are rumors of this being whispered.”

“Rumors?” McCree watched him, not understanding. Or if he was, he wasn't showing it.

“Well. Yes.” Hanzo motioned to him, then the mess on the floor. “All of this…”

It must have clicked then, because McCree started to laugh. “Oh! Right! Gotcha. Well, that could be hilarious.”

Hanzo blanched. Of _course_ he would think so. Why would he have expected anything less? “You think that would be hilarious?” 

McCree only grinned at him. “I can think of worse things.” When Hanzo didn’t respond, he let the grin vanish and walked over. “Hey now, does the idea of it really bother ya’ that badly?”

“Yes." Hanzo immediately lectured himself. Why should he care what others thought of him? "No." He frowned. “I…don’t know.”

“Well, I’ll tell ya what.” McCree stepped closer and Hanzo instinctively took a step back. He went rigid when he felt the door brush his shoulders. The cowboy watched him for a moment. It made Hanzo nervous, as if he was being analyzed. Then, he just smiled at him again. “You make sure ta’ let me know which is it, ‘kay?”

Hanzo remained tense but didn’t make any further moves to escape the proximity. “Why is that?”

“‘Cause,” he put one hand on the door behind the shorter man and reached up with the other, edging a stray piece of long black hair behind his ear. The touch felt like static against Hanzo's skin and it took everything in him not to slap his hand away. He held his ground as he listened. “I need to know if yer gonna’ run from me every time anyone makes a curious glance at you or me.”

His pulse sped up. “And why would that matter to you, gunslinger?”

“Call me crazy, but…” He leaned closer. “I’m kinda’ enjoyin’ bein’ around ya. I’d be sad if you kept on runnin’.”

“Fine. You’re crazy.” Hanzo bit his lower lip, just staring at the other man who was only inches away.

McCree chuckled, eyes drifting to his lips as he noticed the nervous gesture. “Guilty as charged.”

For some reason, Hanzo's knees felt weak as he put more of his weight against the surface that supported him. Something in him stirred a touch. He closed his eyes, willing it away “Tell me. Is it necessary for you to roam about my quarters in a state of half dress?”

“Maybe. Does it bother you?”

“Yes,” Hanzo lied, holding his breath as he felt McCree’s hand brushing his cheek again.

“Good.”

He was so close now. Hanzo could actually feel his breath against his. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was because doing so would make the situation a reality, or because doing so might end it. The confliction was sending his mind into a whirlwind. He was near enough that Hanzo felt a drop of cold water drip from his wet shaggy hair and land on his arm.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked into the deep brown ones that were staring back at him, searching for answers. He wanted so badly to give them to him. He didn’t even know why. And why had he never noticed the flecks of gold in his eyes before? Something stirred again. "Y-you…”

A low pitched whistle from the kitchen started to sound as the water in the kettle apparently reached a boil. Hanzo’s stuttered words were derailed as he blinked out of his daze. “Move. I should see to that,” he said quietly.

“Mhm.” McCree just continued to smile, then slowly straightened back up and took a step aside. “Go on.”

It took Hanzo a moment to recollect and find himself in motion, but he held his robe tighter and headed into the kitchen.

 

By the time Hanzo reemerged from the kitchen, McCree had vanished. He had heard the door open and close without a word, so it was no surprise to find himself alone. He had sat on the sofa and silently sipped his tea, alone in his thoughts. In all reality, he had no idea why the cowboy's closeness had effected him so greatly. Yes, having a person so blatantly advance on him in such a manner would be enough to disrupt _anyone_ , but there in rested the confusion- Hanzo was not upset. There was a mild offense in the back of his mind, but for the most part, it only made him pensive and even more curious. McCree was a buffoon of a man, clumsy and lacking grace and proper social nature. Yet, what he lacked, he certainly did seem to make up for in his radiating confidence in himself and slick charm. 

Slowly, by the time the end of the day found him again, his contemplations had returned to their darker and less than pleasant place. He belittled himself for allowing the previous ones to weigh so heavily on his mind and distract him for so long. 

He slept alone in his bed, restlessly. He would grasp sleep for short periods, then find himself waking in a cold sweat from dreams he could not recall. More than once did he glance over to the side of the bed where his unexpected visitor had been. Perhaps it was the lingering smell of him. He would need to make note to launder his bedding soon.

Later on, he found himself aimlessly roaming the halls again, gazing out the windows. The storm had lessened to a faint snow fall and he eventually snatched a cloak from his closet and ventured out into the cold, hoping it would clear his mind.

He sat himself beneath a tree, just staring off at nothing. He tried to meditate, but every time he reached an appropriate level of concentration, a breeze would stir him from it.

A branch cracked behind him and he nodded. He’d sensed the approach. He’d recognized the presence and he knew it was inevitable. Only one other person he knew could step so gingerly. “Genji.”

“Not quite.”

He looked over in surprise. The feminine voice took him off guard, entirely. “Miss Amari.” He stood, respectfully.

The woman waved a hand in dismiss to his actions. “Sit.”

He watched her, skeptically, but did not reseat until she tucked her cloak under her and sat on the ground right beside him. He settled back in his position, curiously. “I had not expected to see you here. Or…”

“Or think me someone else?” She smiled. “Years have given me more knowledge and stealth than many would expect, young man.”

“That is…not what I meant.” He lowered his head with humble apology.

Ana laughed. “I know.” She smiled and looked out in the direction he’d been focused on in mindless intent. “Finding a peace of mind in great outdoors, are we?”

He nodded, relaxing a bit more. “Yes, I supposed you could say that.” He hadn't managed to find any peace, but there was no reason she needed to know that.

They sat in silence for a moment. Rather than find it awkward, Hanzo was quite appreciative of it. There was a comforting maternalness to her company that anyone with sense could appreciate. Even more so as she pulled a thermos of tea from under her cloak and filled a small cup, offering it to him.

“Ah. Thank you.” He smiled. “Perfect.”

“A good cup of tea is always perfect.” She raised her own in a toast and took a sip. “Tell me. What ails you, young one?”

He gave her an odd look at the term. “I am hardly young.”

“To me you are. And do not avoid the question,” she added, pointedly.

“What makes you think something is ailing me?” He took another sip, frustrated at himself for potentially being transparent.

“Please. Do you think I have reached this point of my life without being able to read a troubled soul?” She smiled, warmly. “Or at least, more troubled than usual?”

“Than usual?” He frowned. “I am not sure what you mean.”

She glanced to him. “Boy, when you came to us, you were already a duststorm of turmoil.” Her voice softened. “No surprise there, all things considered.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised a hand and cut him off. “No need to defend yourself. I understand. All I am saying is I know that look. I have read it on you from day one. This, however…” She tilted her head in his direction. “Men do not often roam into the snow with their troubles unless they are escaping something. Something that is inside…where it is warm, perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” he whispered, staring into the steaming cup of tea. She was a wise woman.

She hummed a sound of approval at her own assumption and nodded, slowly. “And…is this reason in there, right now?”

“Perhaps,” he said again, even quieter. The awkwardness was stirring, but not enough that it bothered him too greatly. Too wise. It nearly felt as though she had his mind more sorted than he did. How frustrating.

“I see.” Ana sipped her own tea, contemplating.”I have been spending a fair bit of time conversing with your brother, too.”

Hanzo looked up. “Ah. He is not this reason. Not this time.”

She smiled gently. “No, I had not assumed so.”

Hanzo finished off his tea and handed the cup back to her. “It is something I think I must sort out on my own.”

“Yes, you are probably correct.” She nodded sagely and stood. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must go. I will be departing for a time.”

“You are leaving?” He looked up at her, questioningly.

Her smile gained a reassuringness to it. “Just a while. One should never spend the holidays alone. I have those I wish to be around.”

“Of course.” He nodded and looked away. “Travel safely, to wherever that may be.”

“Thank you.” She stepped over and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hanzo?”

He stood up then, in a mannerly gesture. “Yes.”

She reached up and patted his cheek, gently. “Do take care of yourself. And don’t be alone for too long.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He furrowed his brow as he watched her walk away, wondering what she could mean by that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how 'bout that kettle? Evil thing... 
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_"Giving up even an ounce of precious freedom is a very serious thing to do. Especially if you're gifting it to another."_

~ Chuck Schumer

 

 

 

In a feeble attempt for some semblance of distraction, Hanzo had spent the rest of the day roaming through the nearest little town. It had been nearly an hour walk at his leisurely pace and his fingertips were numb by the time he made it there, but it had cleared his mind for a bit. Many of the small niche shops were closed since it was so close to Christmas, but there was still enough bustle and activity to keep himself occupied for the time being. He stopped for some lunch at sidestand - soft pretzels were a novelty he was finding himself growing fond of, then did a bit of idle shopping before slowly beginning to make his way back to base. Thankfully, the snow had ceased for a while, so the walk wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d anticipated.

He made his way over the metal bridging and toward the main doors, but just as he approached, something slammed into him with obvious intent. He dropped his bag on the white-powdered ground and spun around at the ready in a defensive posture. Confused, he looked about and noticed the coating of packed snow on him. It cling in the creases of his clothing and clumps fell as he moved. “What the…?”

Before he could think further he rose his head in time to have a snowball wail him right in the cheek, nearly knocking him off his feet! He caught his balance, eyes wide.

“C’mon, Shimada! I know ya got faster reflexes than that!”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Hanzo let a glare slip out. “Gunslinger, I will not partake in your foolish games!”

“Your loss!”

The voice came from behind him and he spun, just in time to be pelted by another snowball, square in the chest. He cursed loudly and brushed it off himself.  _Ridiculous buffoon._

“Well, yer about as fun as a barrel a’ snakes, sometimes.” McCree stepped out from behind a tree, tossing a snowball up and down in his palm. He had a smirk on his face, a cigarette hanging between his lips. 

Hanzo scowled. “I see nothing fun about being assaulted by snow!” The next snowball lunged at him and he ducked just in time. “You must be kidding.”

McCree guffawed and Hanzo grabbed a handful of snow before the cowboy could reload. He must not have been expecting the retaliation, because the snowball landed right between his eyes, knocking his hat clean off his head with it's force.

Hanzo smirked, satisfied.

“Well.” McCree brushed snow from his stubble and grinned. “That more like it.”

Hanzo was about to speak, but paused as he watched the other reaching for more snow. “Do not…!” He dove at him before he could toss it, knocking him off his feet.

“Woah!” McCree tumbled, but grabbed at his attacker, pulling him down with him. In a roll, he pinned Hanzo down on his back.

It was a surprisingly quick play and Hanzo blinked in surprise, looking up at McCree. He had to admit, he was impressed. The cowboy had some sharp reflexes of his own. Though, his deterrent had defeated the purpose of not being covered in more snow, considering he was now laying in it.

“Check mate?” McCree smirked down at him, a few pieces of his hair covering his eyes.

Hanzo sighed in a reluctant defeat. He reached up and plucked the cigarette from McCree's mouth, dousing it into the snow with a quiet 'hiss.' “Do you actually know what that even means?”

McCree chuckled. “Other than “I win?” Nope.”

“I assumed as much.” Hanzo was grateful that the chill was already making his face red. Being in such a position was both embarrassing and unnerving. There were a few seconds of silence between them before a breeze made him shiver. “If you don’t mind… Get off me.”

“Right, right.” McCree scrambled up and they both stood.

Hanzo brushed the snow off himself, as best he could, and recollected his bag. Thankfully none of it's contents had been spilled. “Now that I am even colder than before, thank you very much.”

McCree followed him as they headed inside. “The cold’s not so bad. It’s the warming up afterward that’s the best part.”

Hanzo shook his head, walking a few steps faster to put some distance between them. “You are impossible, do you know that?”

“Actually, I’m pretty simple, to tell ya the truth,” the cowboy laughed.

As they walked down the halls, Hanzo realized that McCree was blatantly following him. A sigh slipped. “What are you doing?”

“Dunno’ yet,” he answered with full honesty in his voice.

Accepting that, Hanzo walked the rest of the way in silence. He arrived at his door and punched in the code. He didn’t even bother to invite his guest in, since he knew he was going to follow him anyhow. Yet, when he stepped aside to let him pass before shutting the door, there was faint look of approval on the other man’s face.

Hanzo sat his bag on the end table and stripped off his cloak to hang it on one of the coathooks. “What were you doing outside?”

McCree walked over and hung his hat right up on one the vacant hooks, smirking at the expression the action merited. “Waiting for you, of course.”

“Me?” Hanzo raised both brows. Not that he wasn’t flattered, but… “Why?”

McCree shrugged, unclasping the hook in the drapery he wore over his shoulders. Snow was beginning to puddle on the floor around them where it was falling from them and melting. “Came to visit, saw ya’d taken off. I was wonderin’ if I’d chased ya’ away already.”

Hanzo softened his expression and shook his head, then started toward the kitchen to prepare his tea kettle. “Unlikely. And do remove those boots if you intend to step in here any further.”

“One step ahead of ya, darlin’,” he called after him.

Quietly filling the copper pot with faucet water, Hanzo placed it on the lit burner, then leaned against the counter, thinking. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to enjoy this crude man’s company. He was brazen and horridly inappropriate, but it was better than being alone. It actually gave him something to look forward to. On top of that, he actually had the absurd ability to draw a smile from him with his unpredictable actions. _Ridiculous..._  

“You got bagels?” McCree walked into the kitchen, carrying the shopping bag that Hanzo had left in the other room.

Flashing him a disapproving look for nosing through his belongings, Hanzo snatched the bag away. “Indeed.” He took the bagels out and set them on the counter and proceeded to put away the rest of the contents.

“Is that ice cream?” McCree watched him put the carton in the freezer with amusement.

“Possibly.” He closed the freezer and left the remaining items in the bag and sat it aside. He bustled around the kitchen and pulled his mug out of the cupboard. After a moment of thought, he grabbed a second one. He wasn’t even certain if McCree drank tea. He had only ever witnessed him consuming coffee, beer, or various other alcohols, but not offering it seemed rude. “Do you-?”

“Do I what?” McCree was right behind him, a smile on his face to greet Hanzo when he spun.

Cheeks warming, he just looked up at the man. He certain was getting more direct with his interactions. He couldn’t fault him, though, after their conversation the other night regarding people being themselves around him. “Do you drink tea?”

“Not usually.” He was still smiling as he moved closer, pinning Hanzo to the counter.

Hanzo swallowed, nervously, when his back hit the cool granite, dead halting his retreat. “What are you doing?”

“You ask that a lot, yanno.”

“Do I?” His voice was quieter- weaker- than he meant it to be. McCree moved closer and Hanzo found himself caught in those dark brown eyes again.

"Yep."

Hanzo's heart sped and he silently cursed it for it's reaction. It was driving him crazy, just how much this rugged cowboy was getting the best of him. All he had to do was gawk at him through that half-lidded puppy dog gaze and he was turning to putty in his calloused hands. Calloused- Hanzo knew that because McCree lifted a his right hand and grazed a thumb over his cheek. His hands were cold. 

They were less than an inch away from one another when the kettle began to sing it’s boiling water tune. With unspoken routine, Hanzo shifted to move, but McCree put a hand on his shoulder. “Nu-uh. Not this time,” he whispered and he reached over and turned off the burner.

Hanzo watched, slightly confused. “What-?”

He couldn’t finish his question. He couldn’t because, right then, there were lips on his. His entire body tensed as McCree kissed him. It was a tender enough gesture, light enough that he could escape it if needed, but obviously with layers of pining built up in it.

Hanzo’s mind exploded, then. All the uncertainties he’d been dealing with seemed horribly insignificant and pointless. He gave in to the subtle taste of smoke, the scent of sweat and pine, and closed his eyes, returning the kiss in response. He had no idea  _why_ he was doing so - it just felt right.

It was obvious then that the confirmation was all McCree really wanted. He seemed to melt in relief at the action in accord with his own. The cool metal fingertips of his left hand rose to rest on the nape of Hanzo's neck while he deepened the kiss.

To his own surprise, Hanzo found himself lost, falling into the surge of ...light? Odd, he'd expected the darkness of conflict and discomfort. He snaked his arms around the cowboy and mimicked the intensity of it. After a long moment, they parted and he found himself catching a breath that he hadn’t even known he’d been holding.

They stared at one another, a slight spark of awe between them. Hanzo tried to speak several times, but no words came out. McCree finally broke the silence as his fingertips trailed down to Hanzo's neck, along his collarbone. “Your skin is freezin’, darlin’,” he whispered. “Why don’t ya go put on somethin’ not so damp.”

“I…yes.” He nodded, clearing his throat so that the ability to vocalize would come back to him. “Good idea.”

It took him another few seconds to finally remember how to move, but he slipped out of the kitchen. His mind replayed what had just happened as he went into the bedroom and changed out of his snow-ridden clothes and into dry ones. He pulled on comfortable pants and his robe. He had no intentions of going anywhere for the rest of the day, so he might as well relax.

As he was pulling the hair tie out of his hair and running a comb through it, there was a knock at his bedroom door. When he opened it, McCree was standing there with a steaming mug.  
“I hope I made it right. Dunno’ if you take anything in this?”

Surprised, Hanzo sat the comb aside and took the mug of tea. “No, I don’t.” He looked at it, uncertain why he was finding himself so touched at the idea of someone preparing a drink for him.

McCree looked concerned, bashful, and accomplished, all at once. “Did I do it right?”

“Yes.” He smiled a bit to reassure him. “It’s just…I do not believe anyone has made tea for me since I was a child. Thank you…“ It didn’t matter if there was too much tea, too little tea, steeped too long – at that moment, the gesture meant the world to him.

He walked over and rested the cup on his side table to cool, then sat on the edge of the bed. “McCree?”

The cowboy watched him. “Hmm? And…you can call me Jesse, yanno’.”

Hanzo nodded, a legitimate curiosity eating at him. “Why me?”

“Huh?” McCree walked over and seated himself down beside him.

“You could set your focus on anyone. Why have you decided to center it on me?” It didn't take a genius to see that Jesse was not an unpleasant man to look at. He was rough around the edges, occasionally unwashed, hair mussed, and unmannerly, but it fit him in the same way that tarnished metal arm gave him a thrilling aura of a man who wasn't afraid of risks - someone who didn't let material or trivial things stand in the way of him actually  _living_ life. All that in combination with that nectar tongue and charming southern disposition. 

At that, he laughed. It was a deep sound and made the hair on the back of Hanzo's neck stand. “Darlin’, I didn’t “decide” anything. Just kinda’…happened.”

“Ah, I suppose that makes sense,” Hanzo whispered, thinking.

McCree shook his head and reached over, turning Hanzo’s chin so he was facing him and no longer staring at the wall. “Stop thinkin’ so hard about it, ‘kay? Not much to think about, to be honest. It just is.”

“It just is.” Hanzo repeated that, then slowly nodded. Then...he chuckled. “You are so ridiculous, gunslinger.”

“Yeah.” He grinned at the sound, his eyes lighting up. “You gonna’ complain about it, though? I’m startin’ to think ya’ like it.”

Instead of responding to the statement with words, Hanzo finally gave into himself and leaned over, pulling Jesse in for another kiss. The surprise was evident in the other man’s tension, but quickly vanished as he submitted to it. He had the upper hand now.

“Check mate,” Hanzo whispered against his lips.

McCree opened his eyes for a moment, looking at him, then smiled more. “Yeah. You win.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day? Shocking! I'm on a roll. The Hanzo sassy angst fuels me on so well. (Also, huge shout-out to the amazing ruotaku2 for keeping me motivated and upbeat through this whole edit-- okay, actually through this entire thing. Otherwise Hanzo would probably eat my brain and I'd be lying in a corner somewhere with a bottle of Jesse's bourbon.)
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_"You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair."_  
~ Rohinton Mistry

 

 

In a perfect world, the couples’ story should have ended there. In the realization of their mutual feelings - if still wary and nervous, they could have curled up and spent their time finding their happy ending together, being heroes and celebrating their victories until the end of days.

This was not a perfect world, however. Happy endings are earned and not granted. They are a reward of trial and error, learning and understanding. Otherwise, everyone would be basking in the wonder of another with minimal effort.

Hanzo knew this. In truth, it terrified him. After everything of the past, he wasn’t entirely certain if he even had the strength or the emotional stamina to pursue it. Relationships - 'no,' he shoved the thought aside. Bonds took work. On top of that, did he even deserve any of it?

He opened his eyes and looked up at the slowly drifting clouds through the skylights. With the base still nearly vacant, aside from a scattered handful of them, there was little need for usage of the primary meeting rooms. This one, in particular, had a spectacular view. He laid on the long metal table and the exhaled softly, thinking. Part of him was enjoying all this peace and quiet, but the other half was growing weary from the freedom to overthink.

He was just so tired. And it wasn’t the sort of exhaustion that sleep could help him recover from. Recent times had helped him mend some broken chains and reconnect with his brother. He had a place of welcome and those he could confide in, should he choose to. He was grateful for that, but there were still deep wounds - scars, if you will. They stewed at him, eating him alive until the next distraction came along to pull his mindset to something else. 

He sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, silently. A few bits of his hair fell forward, brushing his arm. He hadn’t even bothered to tie it up today. He hadn't even changed out of his lounge pants and the tee he had slept it last night. It was unlike him, but he couldn’t be bothered to care right now. No one was really around to see him, anyhow.

In all truth, being around Jesse had become a refreshing thing for him. When they were together, things felt different. All the issues that plagued him seemed insignificant. He found himself smiling and actually looking forward to the next moments of their company together. Whenever they were apart, however…then the void seemed even bigger, even deeper than before. After a while, it boiled inside him to the point where it led him back to irrational thoughts of anger and hostility. 

Two days. It had been two days since he saw him last. Two days since he had given in and put his heart on his sleeve for a short time. It may have been a foolish thing, but he had done so, regardless. Two days since a kiss and tea, then hours of light and flighty conversation. There had been no pressure, no lewd acts - just them. He had no idea where he had vanished off to, and Hanzo was beginning to suspect that he had indeed found somewhere to spend the holiday that was more appealing. It wouldn’t be terribly surprising.

He finally slid himself off the table and walked out of the room. The door hissed closed behind him, breaking the silence. It wasn’t an exaggeration, either. At this point, the base nearly was deserted. Even the A.I. was in rest mode, only humming enough to help the building continue it’s primary functions. His brother was likely lurking about somewhere, but as far as he was aware, if Jesse was gone, it was only the two of them now.

The irony of it was almost painful. Everyone else had departed to be with loved ones or family members, and here he was, in the same location as his brother, and they were inevitably avoiding one another. He slipped a wry and pained grin at the thought. Just as well. He didn’t deserve his siblings company, nor did Genji deserve to have to deal with him in a time that was apparently meant for joy and happiness. Neither of them were ready for that yet.

He idly sidled through the main kitchen, a room the facility had, but was rarely used since all their dormitory rooms contained kitchenettes of their own. Even the refrigerator only contained a carton of juice, a few sticks of butter, and some cheese that looked far past it’s expiration date. He made some tea, finished it, then sat the cup in the sink. There was no gratification found in the act.

Hanzo walked into the halls and just leaned against the wall. His demons were chewing relentlessly at his mind now. He slid down the cold surface and just sat on the floor, scolding himself for becoming this way. For so long he had covered all his emotions with abrasiveness, casual, yet sometimes witty commentary, and harsh tones. It had become part of him and he expected everyone had grown used to it. It worked.

What had happened? It felt as if something had suddenly ripped open a floodgate and left him vulnerable, sulking in his own self-pity. Why now, of all times? It was spiraling at him so intensely that it almost felt physically painful.

He rested his face in his hands, elbows on his knees and just…sat there, uncertain of what else to do. There was nothing else to do. Well, sure, there was- he could go read a book, or even meditate. All of that seemed less than appealing, however.

So he stayed. He sat in the same place for well over an hour. Maybe even two. The metal floor was cold through his pants and the hard wall was making his spine hurt but…he didn’t want to move. He was so lost himself that, while he heard the faint humming sound nearby, he thought nothing of it other than to be an idle noise.

The gentle hum became ever present and sounded nearer and he finally opened his eyes. The presence before him was one of the last he’d expected to see.

“Greetings,” the gentle omnic voice spoke.

Hanzo looked at Zenyatta with surprise, then nodded once to him. He attempted to collect himself and reached up to rub his eyes, trying to disregard the dampness of them that he hadn’t even been aware of. “Hello. I had not thought to see you here.”

“Is this not a common area?”

“Well, yes.” Good point.

“I would think it more unusual to find you seated here when there are a variety of chairs, just a room away.”

He looked away, mildly annoyed at the perfectly valid point. “I suppose you are correct.”

When Zenyatta said nothing, Hanzo just looked at him, anxious to break the quiet tension before it built. “I didn’t even know you were still here, to be honest.”

“I have no other place which I would rather be at this time.”

That piqued his curiosity.  “Really? I had thought even you would have ones you would want to be with, right now.”

“I do.”

The omnic’s cryptic nature was both frustrating as well as intriguing to him. “I…am not sure I understand.”

“I would expect not.” Zenyatta drifted closer and lowered himself across from Hanzo to sit, thought there were still a few inches of space hovering beneath him.

Hanzo furrowed his brow as he watched him. Why was he even here? Did he want something? He had no ill feelings toward the omnic, especially after the generosity he had clearly displayed with mentoring Genji, but they were not close. His brother's connection to him was no his own and they rarely interacted in the past. 

As if reading him, Zenyatta calmly spoke the obvious. “There is a disquiet in your soul.”

The bluntness caught him off guard. “Excuse me?”

“I could sense it from a distance. What is troubling you?”

He found himself a hint annoyed since that was the second time in a week that someone had asked him that exact question. He was starting to feel like the token situation of worry to those around him. “Sense it?”

“An imbalance, per say,” he gently explained. A couple of the orbs that hovered in rotation around him seemed to glow brighter as he spoke. “Something within you is shifting, and it is causing you a disruption. Am I correct?”

Hanzo wanted to argue the observation. He wanted to protest and tell him he was foolish in his statement…but he also knew there was no point in lying about it when it was apparently obvious the omnic. “So it would seem, yes.” The words bit at his tongue as he admitted them aloud.

“Most unfortunate.”

He rolled his eyes at that. No shit. “Indeed.”

Zenyatta’s head tilted as he watched Hanzo closely. “You seem unnerved at my presence. Shall I find Genji to speak with you, instead?”

His eyebrow twitched. “No. That will not be necessary. I do not need to speak with anyone. Especially him.”

He stood up, then, though the action took more effort than he cared to admit. His knees were stiff and his joints ached from sitting on the cold floor for so long.

Zenyatta mimicked his action and lifted himself higher into the air. “Are you certain? I often find that speaking ones disturbances is better than bottling them within to feed it.”

“Your wisdom is frustrating,” Hanzo said, but there was no malice in his tone. It made sense, though. Genji had become quite vocal in speaking his feelings since they had been reunited. If this was the teaching that Zenyatta had given him, then it put a bit of it into perspective.

He paced down the hall a little and stared out one of the windows at the sun that was beginning to set over the horizon, thinking. “Zenyatta?”

“Hmm?” He drifted closer, patiently curious.

“You are still here because my brother is, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he agreed.

Hanzo nodded, having expected as much. He wasn’t sure of the nature behind the reason, and he had never felt inclined to question it. Sometimes he found himself jealous of the bond his brother had with his master, if irrational. It was foolish of him to have any envy from a situation that he had brought on, himself.

“He gives me balance,” Zenyatta continued.

“Balance?” Hanzo looked over at him, questioningly.

“Yes.” There was a tone of pride in his robotic voice. “Our presence benefits one another, quite remarkably. I do not favor well when departed from him for an extended period of time.”

“Hmm.” He looked back out the window, doing his best not to find the conversation awkward. “Interesting. I would think it more the other way around.” His voice softened. “I would expect him to be the more dependent of you two.”

“Does it truly matter? In such situations, a pairing is one in the same, a whole, regardless of who carries which needs. You accommodate the other.”

“Pairing?” Hanzo blinked and looked at him again. “You…? Oh.” Something in his brain fizzled. “Oh! What? That…is not what I meant. I had not known…”

Zenyatta laughed bell-like quietly, amusement evident in his voice. “It is a not a topic commonly discussed within such an establishment.”

Hanzo’s mind was reeling from the thought. Were his brother and this omnic in a…relationship? His emotions shifted from surprise, to curiosity, to even a touch of a different breed of envy. Even with everything that had happened, everything Hanzo had put him through, Genji still found a way to grant himself happiness. He lowered his gaze to the floor, trying to mask his guilt.

“As I said, he gifts me with balance. If we were to part now, I suspect the upset would be most troubling. Is it possible that you understand what I mean in that?”

Again, he looked at Zenyatta, startled. Did he know? Well, he probably did. Genji had seen more than he had wanted him to, even if nothing had been happening at that time. Still, he was certain he must have spoken of it. He frowned, ready to defend himself…until he realized there was nothing to defend. “I may,” his voice was quieter than he meant it to be.

“Balance is a valuable thing.” He hovered past Hanzo and looked out the window. “Should you find it, I would suggest holding onto it.”

There was no point in hiding anything anymore. He hesitated, regardless. “Even…if that balance comes in the form of a crude and ridiculous man?”

“Even then.” Zenyatta nodded once, without hesitation. “Finding someone who is so opposite of a spectrum as you can be quite unnerving, I am sure. Perhaps, however, it is a boon. True harmony can be found in the more unexpected of places, if you only allow yourself to grasp it.”

He thought on that for a moment. As much as it pained him, it made sense. He had found a balance, and now the balance was gone, leaving him on a tilt. It was up to him to embrace it or choose to rebuild himself all over again.

“Thank you,” he finally whispered. He had a lot to think about. At least he had a direction to go in, now.

The omnic nodded again as they continued to gaze out the window. “You are most welcome.”

 

As Hanzo finally made his way down the hall, his thoughts continued to hound him. They were less unpleasant than before, at least. There was a meaning behind them now, rather than a troubling uncertainty.

It was Christmas Eve, apparently. He had learned that from eyeing the calendar in the main kitchen. Jesse was probably long gone for the next day or two, and while that was upsetting, it gave him time to properly think.

He stepped up to his door and punched in the key code. As it rushed open, he expected to breathe in the familiar smell of sandalwood incense. It was not there, however. Something else… Was that pine?

He walked in and reached for the light switch. Before he could hit it, the room lit up in an array of multi-colored strings of lights. He froze and looked around. They were draping his doorway, extending along the outline of the whole main room. At the far end was a small evergreen, also dotted with more lights and red and green baubles. They reflected off the walls in warm shimmers. “What in the…?”

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

He turned to the voice, spotting Jesse, sitting on the floor beside an electrical outlet where he must have been seated in wait to plug in the lights. “What…what is all this?”

The cowboy grinned and stood, moving his hat out of his lap and onto the book case next to him. “Thought you could use a bit ‘a cheer. I know you ain’t down with the Christmas thing as much as the rest of us, but…”

As his voice trailed off, Hanzo shook his head and looked around again. The colorful lights cast a variety of festive hues all over the room. “No. Thank you. It’s lovely.”

Jesse stood beside him and it took a minute for Hanzo to realize he was looking at him with concern. His eyes shifted over his state of dress and undone hair. “You okay?”

Hanzo nodded and looked away, just staring at the tree. “It has been a long-” Or rather… “-a tiring day.”

“Aw, shucks.” He put his arm around him and pulled him close. “I’m sorry. I didn’ mean ta’ take off on ya.’ Hope yer not upset at me for it.”

“No,” he hushed. He wasn’t upset at him. If he’d been upset at anyone, it had been himself. “Not at all.”

“Good,” Jesse smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

The act jolted Hanzo. There had been no build up or nervousness as there had previously been. It was just that- a quick and simple kiss. An act that seemed too natural and expected, given the closeness.

Jesse must have picked up on his hesitation because he pulled back and opened his eyes, looking at him skeptically. “You sure yer okay?”

Hanzo just bobbed his head in a nod again. The expression of doubt on the other's face pained him. Zenyatta’s words flowed back through his mind as he remembered them. Balance. Was this man truly his balance? Really? _Jesse McCree_? Was that even possible? Was he alright with this?

“I mean, if you wanna just sit and--”

“Shut up,” Hanzo whispered and grabbed the front of Jesse’s buttoned up shirt, pulling him back in. He kissed him. He did so more feverishly than even he expected to, himself. In doing such, he realized that yes, he _was_ alright with this. There was a fleeting thought that maybe he _did_  deserve this. Maybe there _was_ some joy to be found in this rugged cowboy. Days of longing and overstewing poured out of him.

His legs felt weak as Jesse eagerly returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm. As usual, he tasted like a combination of cigars and now a hint of bourbon, which Hanzo found entirely fitting and unexpectedly pleasant. There was a hand firmly on his back, holding him close against the other man, so close that Hanzo could actually feel Jesse’s rising pulse, beating against his chest- or maybe that was his own.

“Well now,” Jesse murmured, breaking the kiss. His head tipped to whisper in his ear, the feel of his breath cause Hanzo to shudder, gently. “Had I known a few boxes o’ Christmas lights would do this to ya, I’d’a done it ages ago.”

“Heh.” Hanzo chortled shortly, eyes closed as he basked in the attention. His lack of protest was obviously encouraging the cowboy and he was selfishly enjoying it. This was especially evident when he let a quiet gasp escape from a gentle nibble at his ear.

“You just let me know if I should stop, mm’kay?” There was an alluring quietness in the whisper and it took all Hanzo’s willpower to keep himself from melting into his arms, entirely. No. He didn’t want him to stop.

He felt fingertips slipping under the back of his shirt, grazing his skin. His hand tangled in the cowboy’s hair as he silently savored every touch. There were kisses on his neck now and he welcomed the delicateness of them- as if Jesse were praising and worshiping him.

Just when he was starting to think he could grow happily used to this and contemplate where it might be leading to, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke the intensity. He quickly opened his eyes and swayed a little as his focus returned.

“You…uh… might want to shut your door.”

They both looked over at the cyborg that was staring at them.

“G-Genji…I…”

The unwanted guest chuckled from the hall. “Happy Holidays, indeed.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes and pulled away from Jesse, walking over and punching in the code as the door slammed shut. His cheeks grew red with embarrassment and he fought to stabilize his breathing.

Behind him, he heard Jesse snickering. “Well, at least it wasn’t the kettle, this time…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sexual content and the like, alcohol consumption, men being a pain in the ass (no pun intended). 
> 
> Really, though, I'm letting them enjoy their sap and mush while they can. *evil writer laugh*  
> Ahem. Enjoy. 
> 
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_"That One person is someone whom, when you meet, without thinking - without letting your neocortex play into the decision - you feel an instant familiarity, a sense of connection, a longing._

_And sometimes that longing is infuriating."_

~ Karen Salmansohn

 

 

 

“An entire base, nearly vacant,” Hanzo scowled with annoyance. “And of _course_ he walks past.”

He poured himself a mug of black tea and sat it on the counter, turning off the stove burner. Behind him, Jessewas laughing, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Not too worried, to be honest.” He grinned. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll look back on it later and find it hilarious.”

“Highly unlikely,” Hanzo muttered and opened his cabinets, digging through them until he found a half full bottle of brandy. He uncapped it and poured a hefty serving into his tea. The thick scent of cherry mingled with the steam.

“Well now,” Jesse watched curiously. “If that’s how yer servin’ tea, maybe I will take some. Yanno’, minus the tea.”

Hanzo eyed him for a moment, then just shook his head. He pulled glass from the cupboard and poured more of the burgundy liquid in it, thenoffered it to him.

The cowboy pushed himself off the wall and stepped over, taking it. “I was only kiddin’ around, but I sure ain’t gonna' look a gift horse in the mouth.”

The expression irritated Hanzo for a brief second before he realized it was likely more of a compliment than an insult. Jesse's dialect was infuriatingly hard to piece together, but he was progressively getting the hang of it. “I am not sure if it is to your taste, what with your preferences of beers and malts.”

“I ain’t as picky as you think I am,” Jesse laughed again and took a swig of the drink, then winked at him. “Well, with some things, maybe.”

The suggestive comment bounced off Hanzo’s obliviousness for a moment, then he just rolled his eyes, but let a small smile escape. He silently put away the bottle and picked up his mug, heading back into the main room, knowing Jesse would follow him. He always did.

Hanzo paused for a breath and looked around again at all the decorations. He wondered how long he had spent putting them up, or the amount of time he had sat there waiting for him to return to his room to surprise him with it all. “What brought this on?” he asked as he sat and motioned at the tree.

“Dunno’,” Jesse shrugged as heflopped down right beside him. “Like I said before, just thought you might like it. I mean, _I_ think it looks nice. And it adds a bit of a touch. But, If you don’t like ‘em, I can take ‘em all down.”

“No,” Hanzo quickly protested, then lowered his voice. “I do. Leave them.”

“Good.”

An arm slid around him and Hanzo took a sip of his tea as he leaned against the other man, just looking at the tree while contemplating. This was pleasant. He wasn’t sure if it officially qualified as “harmony,” but he’d still happily accept it. For now, this was as close to perfection as he could see, or that he'd felt in quite a long time, come to think of it. Jesse leaned over and kissed the top of his head and heshut his eyes.

“Imma’ keep you, m’kay?”

“Keep me?” Hanzo puzzledat the statement.

“Yep,”Jesse said quietly, holding himtighter, like he expected him to dart away at any second. “That alright?”

The brazen nature of the comment was hilarious to Hanzo. _Ridiculous_. He smiled a touch. “Yes. That is alright.”

“Really?” The cowboy actually seemed surprised. “Just like that, huh?”

Just like that. Could it truly be so easy? No. It never was. Hanzo took another long drink from his mug, then sat it aside. “You do realize that such a thing may not be as simple as youassume it to be, correct?”

“Darlin’, please,” Jesse scoffed. “Ain’t nothin’ so good that’s that simple.”

If that's how he felt, Hanzo was impressed. For all Jesse's confidence, he'd have never guessed he would agree on the possibility of difficulty. “If you accept me, you accept the demons of my past as well. That is something I suggest you think heavily on before continuing this.”

As if recognizing the seriousness of the statement, Jesse looked at him for a spell, then downed the rest of his drink before he sat his own glass on the table. “You think I haven’t?” He admitted. “And you think I don’t got my own demons that I love to ignore, too? Trust me, I know how that shit goes down.”

Hanzo rested his hands in his lap, lowering his gaze. “Of course I do. That is not what I meant.”

“I know what ya meant. Look…” Jesse scooted a couple inches closer and reached over, taking Hanzo’s hands in his in an awkward but affectionately reassuring gesture. “We all got some baggage. Anyone who's packed up a tale or two to tell has gathered some. The trick is to find someone whose baggage matches well with yer own.”

He nodded, thinking about that. Baggage. What an interesting way to describe it.

“I mean, at the end o’ the day, we’re only human here-- most of us, at least. And we’re gonna’ say shit that hurts. We’re gonna’ piss one another off. It's gonna' happen. The key is to still wanna’ be with that person, no matter how angry they make ya.” Jesse smiled at him. “And really, that’s good enough fer me. You?”

Hanzo rolled the thought around in his mind. He knew he had a habit of spouting harsh insults without thing about them, first. If anyone could handle them, he hoped it would be Jesse. “Very well.”

“Good.” Satisfied, the cowboy stood up. “Now, if we’re done with all the serious gabbin’, let’s put it all aside fer a while. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”

Hanzo watched as the man walked out of the room and into the kitchen. It somewhat amazed him how he could turn off the pensive nature of a conversation, like flipping a switch. Perhaps Hanzo could learn from that. Maybe. He raised a brow as he heard the refrigerator door, slightly amused as Jesse returned, carrying two beers in his hand, uncapping one and offering it to Hanzo.

“Dunno’ if yer into it, but I figure with thatsaké I've seenya’ drinkin', beer probably tastes like candy to you.”

Truthfully, he had nodisagreement with beer. The earthy taste was somehow humbling and pleasantly natural. it just wasn’t his firstchoice in alcoholic beverages. “Thank you.” Hanzo eyed the cold bottle now in his hand. “You…put beer in my refrigerator?”

“Maybe.” Jesse smirked and seated himself down on the floor, pulling a deck of cards out of his pocket. “Now, let’s lighten the mood a bit, shall we?”

 

Hanzo had never been one for card games, but he was clever with strategy and numerical combinations. Once he learned the rules of the various games they were playing, he quickly took the upper-hand. It also helped that Jesse’s poker face was severely unconvincing while he was drinking. Even still, he let the cowboy win a few rounds, here and there.

“What is Black Jack?” he finally questioned as he looked at the cards in his hand.

Jesse lit acigar, holding it between his lips as he eyed his own hand. “Hmn? Ah, well, a poker game. Gotta’ try and tally yer hand to twenty-one and all that. Why?”

He eyed the cigar with obvious disapproval, but didn’t stop him. “I have always been curious.”

“I could show ya, but…I reckon there's not much we could wager. Don’t got any chips or anything.” He lifted his gaze and smirked at Hanzo. “And I ain’t got the nerve to try and talk ya into strip poker, just yet.”

“Perhaps another time,” Hanzo replied, blandly. “I still have some dignity to preserve.”

 

They played through several games and, while Hanzo was enjoying the casual interaction, by the time he was handed his fourth beer, his slight intolerance for the beverage was beginning to shine through as he grew more chatty with his guest. “Gunslinger, I am starting to suspect you are purposefully trying to intoxicate me.”

“You bet’cha,” Jesse chuckled, sitting back down and opening another bottle of his own. “That’s what the holidays are for, after all. Though, usually it’s so ya can get so wasted that you actually get yerself in the mindset that you enjoy bein’ around yer family.”

Hanzo’s brow raised. “And if you already enjoy the presence of your current company?”

Jesse smiled and started dealing a new hand of cards to each of them. “Then ya just kick back n’ enjoy it.”

“Hmm.” He picked up the cards as they slid his direction, adding each one to his hand, though he wasn’t paying much attention to them at this point. He took another deep drink as the numbers on them grew less and less interesting.

Sure enough, Jesse won the next game with ease. His concentration was wavering and he was losing focus. As they were halfway through the next, Hanzo sat down his cards down on the floor and sighed.

Jesse watched him. “Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?”

He shook his head, tired of cards. “Do you play chess, perhaps?”

“Not by choice,” Jesse chuckled. "That one's a little outta' my element." 

Pity. He enjoyed chess. “Hmph,” Hanzo muttered under his breath. “I’ll bet you would if it was strip chess.”

“What was that?” Jesse blinked.

“Nothing,” Hanzo fibbed, smiling all too sweetly.

Jesse eyed him suspiciously, then sat his own cards down. “Uh huh. I think I should cut ya’ off, Shimada.”

“No,” Hanzo said and finished off the beer, setting the bottle aside. “Believe me, I am hardly effected.”

“Uh huh,” Jesse repeated, doubtfully. “You sure about that?” A playful smile quirked at his lips. “I don’t want ya’ thinkin’ I’m trying to take advantage of ya’ or somethin’.”

That amused, Hanzo. “I was unaware that card games were a new form of foreplay. If so, it is quite unsuccessful.”

The bluntness of the statement caught the other man off guard and he flashed a surprised look, if only brief. “I…well….huh. Damn. Guess I’m getting’ rusty, then.”

A smug satisfaction made Hanzo smirk. “Perhaps.” The cards now forgotten, beside him, he unseated himself and moved over to Jesse, crawling right onto his lap.

“Um. Darlin’?” He looked at him with a mixture of confusion andawe, though he held his hands out to the side, as if uncertain what to do. “I ain’targuin’, but what’s this about? I mean, you _sure_ you ain't had too much to drink?”

“Hush, gunslinger,” Hanzo muttered, straddling his lap as he leaned in and kissed him. If he was going to either hell or harmony, he may as well do it thoroughly, whichever it may be. He was tired of fighting this feeling, and truth be told, being in the same vicinity after that the stresses of the last two days was nearly torturous. Yes, the drinks may have tipped him over the edge, but not enough to cloud his judgement. No. Now he simply felt lessnervous. 

There waslittle hesitation to be found after that as Jesse wrapped his arms around him and returned the kiss. The intensity of it quickly grew, likely from the novelty of Hanzo actually instigating it.

At this moment, Hanzo didn’t care. He didn’t want to think about the uncertainties. He wanted to escape them, to burn them away. And that fire in him grew as he heard the other man hum a quiet sound appreciation against the kiss.

His partner’s hands found themselves beneath his shirt again. He quivered at the touches on his skin, even if they had less of a tenderness to them than before. His heart rate pulsed as his fingertips found the buttons on Jesse’s shirt, deftly undoing them while never interrupting the lip contact. There was only a brief pause as his own shirt was lifted over his head, then they drew together again, like magnets.

When he felt Jesse’s hands tangling in his hair, he realized just howheatedly the mood was growing. He could feel the toned sculpting of the other’s chest against his own and a soft sound of approval mewed from him. The action surprised him, since it had been nearly subconscious.

Hanzo reached up and cupped Jesse’s cheek. The man grabbed his wrist and broke the kiss to look at him with bright eyes, his breath hitching. Hanzo could tell he was asking where they were going with this without actually speaking. It didn’t take arocket scientist to read that expression of longing admiration.

He mentally processed a checklist: Door was shut and looked. No kettle was on the stove. No interruptions this time. Standing, Hanzo took Jesse by the arm and pulled him up. “Come on, cowboy.”

“Don’t gotta’ tell me twice,” he replied in araspy voice, following his lead without falter.

They barely even made it ten feet before Hanzo found his back to the wall, again trapped in a passionate liplock. His body temperate was raising and the surface felt like ice against his shoulders, causing him to arch against the other man. It only added to the feverishness of the act.

He made the motion to move, but Jesse had him trapped there, tormenting him through fierce kisses and his leg strategically pressed between Hanzo’s, adding a synchronized pressure in a way that was starting to drive him mad.

His breath hissed in a mixture of annoyance and avidity as he reached down and gripped onto Jesse’s hips, clenching at the denim that covered them.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’?” Jesse purred the question into the kiss, biting gently at Hanzo’s bottom lip as his hand slowly slid down the bare skin of his chest. “Actin’ like ya want somethin’, here...”

Hanzo balked at the statement. “I am _not_ …” He nearly whimpered as Jesse’s hand crept lower, taunting at the drawstring of his pants. “…going to beg you.”

The cowboy chuckled as he undid the ties. “Good. Wouldn’t wanna’ destroy yer disposition too much in one night.”

He gritted his teeth a little. “Shut up.” He grabbed the back of Jesse’s head and yanked him back into the kiss so he’d stop talking.

As his pants hit the floor in a heap around his feet, reality became a sudden tornado. The kiss grew fervid while their positions shifted. His hands floundered to undo the button of some frustratingly tight jeans as they hit the bedroom- almost literally. Hanzo huffed out a breath as his body hit the bed, immediately followed by Jesse's, crawling on top of him.

 

Hanzo had known what would happen next, obviously. He’d expected pain, or even discomfort. There hadn’t hardly been any. What _did_ happen was complete and utter ecstasy- hands caressing him in intimate places, both hungrily and adoringly at the same time- the body of the larger man over him, heavy but perfectly so, never crushing or pressing him- the murmurs of encouragement- the gentle hair tugs from metal fingertips...

He had never been more grateful for the fact that the walls were soundproof, respectfully containing the sounds that had forcefully emitted from him or the chanting coos ofpraise that Jesse repeatedly crooned to him, urging him on until his entire body felt like it was about to burst in a euphoric explosion.

What had happened was _exactly_ that- nearly indescribable to him. Hanzo remembered thewaves of pleasure crashing around him, the blinding white light in his head.  He now stared into the darkness of the bedroom as his chest rose any fell, rapidly, the lastsurges of bliss still rushing through him.

He could still practically feel the way Jesse’s hands had been adventuring over his entire body; the way he’d clenched so tightly at the bedding beneath him so hard that his knuckles were aching, until Jesse had taken his hand in his to share the gripping with his own as they’d moved together.

Jesse was still hovered over him, his forehead resting on Hanzo’s shoulder as he fought to catch his own breath. Hanzo’s arms were around him, both of them slick with perspiration.

After a moment, Jesse moved, rolling onto his side and pulling the other man against him.

“You…” Hanzo uttered as he spooned himself closer.

“Huh?” Jesse’s voice was breathy, but Hanzo could literally hear his smile, even with one single word.

Hanzo shook his head and closed his eyes, mind still spinning from emotional and physical stimulation.

Jesse leaned in and kissed him again, much softer and more tenderly this time. “Not gonna’ move for a while here…”

In response, Hanzo just hugged him closer. He could feel Jesse's heartpounding in his chest. It was slowly returning to a normal pace. Not moving sounded like a wonderful plan. In fact, at this moment, he would be more than content with never having to move again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lookie! Some art, there!  
> This was done by the lovely [blacksmiley](http://blacksmiley-c.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> If anyone is being sucked into this, there's an accompanying playlist to match. Such feels. Much angst.  
> http://8tracks.com/neko-shimada/check-mate


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mild sexual content, brief violence (not together, thankfully)
> 
> Another day of two posts in 24 hours, wow!   
> Happy New Year, everyone!   
> If you're still with me, you're a rockstar and I appreciate you! 
> 
> Also...sorry, Hanzo. I do love you, I swear. xo
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_"Today is your own. Embrace it. For tomorrow perchance may never come."_  
~ Swami Sivananda

 

 

Knowing that Jesse McCree had a habit of vanishing on him, Hanzo fell asleep in near content, yet secretly hoping that his company would still be there when he awakened, the next morning. He even woke up once or twice, then gratefully drifted back to sleep when he felt the strong arms still wrapped around him.

When the dawn approached and he felt himself jolted awake through unexpected rushes of sensation from an _impeccably_ skilled tongue, it became inherently obvious that he’d had nothing to worry about.

“Good gods,” he mustered through cinched breaths, eyes closing as he felt Jesse crawl up his body and out from beneath the covers in an almost cat-like manner.

“G’morning, darlin’,” he purred softly, kissing Hanzo’s cheek before settling comfortably on top of him.

“That it most certainly is,” Hanzo admitted, quietly, attempting to stabilize his breathing.

They remained in bed for the majority of the day. There were periods of amorous activity, but for the most part, they stayed relaxed, just basking in one another’s presence. Hanzo wasn’t sure if such “lazy” nature was appropriate for the holiday, but he couldn’t think of any better way to spend it.

The digital numbers on the clock had blinked to around 5:25 PM before either of them even bothered to move out of the bed for longer than a couple moments.

Making his way into the bathroom, Hanzo turned the shower on to a suitable temperature and stepped in. As comfortable as he’d been, he reeked of sex and sweat- nearly certain it wasn’t all his own, either, and was anxious to be clean. Plus, the hot water would be glorious on his sore muscles.

He’d barely even managed to wash the soap out of his hair when he sensed someone climb into the shower with him. A smile quirked on his lips, not entirely surprised. “Just how big do you think this stall is?” he chuckled.

Jesse craned his arms around Hanzo and kissed his neck. “Big enough. You complainin’?”

“Mm, not at all.” Hanzo turned and kissed him, secretly pleased at the gratification in his sudden sense of co-dependency.

After the shower was christened in the most pleasurable of ways, Hanzo was _finally_ able kick Jesse out of it and get clean, properly. He dressed himself in some cotton pants and his most casual kimono he owned- one so informal that he used to mostly to lounge in and felt little guilt from not properly sashing it. He set water to boil in the kettle and collected a Christmas card that was sitting outside his door from Genji. Hanzo wasn’t even certain why he felt compelled to check- they seldom received actual mail on base, but he’d had a feeling.

Smells of food wafted through the room as he listened Jesse in the kitchen, making something he called “grilled cheese,” a concept that confused Hanzo since there was no grill around.

Hanzo snuck in long enough to make himself some tea, then returned into the living room, setting his mug aside to open the envelope. He shook his head at the overly festive manufactured card with a snowman wearing a red cap, saying, “MERRY CHRISTMAS” in bold letting. On the inside was some handwritten scrawl:

 

 _Hanzo,_  
_I hope this finds its way to you. I plan to hand deliver it, but if your door is closed. I’ll just set it outside. I would not want to interrupt you again. Happy Holidays, brother._

 

His brow twitched as Hanzo closed the card and slipped it back into its envelope. Genji was finding far too much amusement in this whole thing. Even still, he would have to make a mental note to thank him the next time he saw him.

 

The next few days passed without much event. Hanzo and Jesse took the time to focus their attentions on one another as much as possible. It came as a surprise to Hanzo, but the cowboy was actually a halfway decent cook. He’d even discovered an enjoyment of leaning on the kitchen counter, watching him as he did so, especially since it didn’t seem to bother Jesse when he did.

Though, Hanzo _also_ found that he needed to develop a habit of locking his bathroom door when showering. As much as he felt a thrill of excitement when his wash time was intruded upon, it was still a sacrifice he wasn’t willing to part with. Showers were his time- for thinking and reflecting…and occasionally a bit of song- something he hadn’t really realized he did until he caught Jesse sitting in the hall, one evening, chuckling. “You have a nice voice,” he’d said, and Hanzo had stormed off to his room in embarrassment.

It was just after New Year’s Day when the others started to drift back into the base, one by one. Chatter and noise began to fill the halls and privacy and quiet regions outside of one’s private quarters were once again nearly impossible to find.

“Han-zooo!!!”

He cringed at the sing-song volume of the voice, stopping in his tracks in the hall. Hands shoved in the pockets of his coat, he turned to watch the girl bouncing toward him. “Ah, welcome back, Hana…”

“I hope you had a good Christmas!” She leapt at him, embracing him in a hug.

From anyone else, Hanzo might have been taken off his guard or even offended. He was used to it from Hana, however. He smiled a touch and hugged her in return. “Quite, thank you.”

“Good.” She beamed in approval at him, then looked over his shoulder, down the hall. “Oh! Ana!” She waved and pulled away from Hanzo, chasing after the older woman with a similar gait as when she’d seen him.

He shook his head and watched, nearly able to see the patient but exasperated look on the Ana Amari’s face from all the way back where he stood. After so many days of peace, this would take some getting used to again.

He stepped out into the snow, pulling his cloak tighter around himself, Storm Bow and his quiver peeking out around it. Behind him, the doors closed, shutting out the sounds of Winston’s booming laughter. Almost instantly, Hanzo was greeted with the serene silence of nothing but the swishing of the cold winter breezes.

There were footsteps all through the snow, scattered in all directions from the day’s traffic. He eyed them all, looking for certain ones in particular- clunky spurred boots- but there were none that were recognizable. He hadn’t seen Jesse all morning, but that was to be expected. With everyone returning, he was sure they’d pulled his attention off to chat or catch up.

Take a deep breath of the fresh air, he started down the path. He meandered off to a tiny valley in the forest that they’d set up as an archery range for practicing. Seeing no other footprints around, Hanzo sighed in relief and set his focus on his bow. He’d been slacking off on his regular routines, so it felt good to go back to some semblance of normal with practice.

After being cooped up inside for so many days, it felt glorious to be outside, even if the wind chill was lower than he preferred. An hour passed and he actually grew bored of pelting arrows at the straw-packed dummies, so he packed Storm Bow back up and walked toward the small nearby town.

He strolled along the shop fronts, his steps making the light crunching sound as snow packed beneath them. In the distance, heard the sound of children laughing and yelling out to one another as they played a game of some sort. He idly watched them for a moment before continuing on.

Hanzo’s serenity was put on hold as he suddenly watched a dark form emerge from a smoke cloud near the edge of an alley by two tall buildings. He tensed. Was that…? His eyes widened as he quickly darted out of view. _Impossible!_ Not here.

He peered over again and the figure was gone. Perhaps down the alley? He exhaled silently, debating what to do. In his pocket was a phone – a link of communication that he, along with everyone else on the team, had been given upon first entry to the base. The first button on it was an immediate speed dial to his comrades, should he need them. Hanzo debated for a moment, resting his hand over the device, then shook his head.

No. He wouldn’t beckon anyone until he was certain there was a threat – until he was sure he hadn’t been seeing things.

He slid his bow off his back and into his palms as he moved closer. His steps were silent now as he slipped into full scout mode. There wasn’t much he could do at so close of a range, should trouble appear, but he would sure as hell go down trying if he had to.

“Nonsense. Don’t be an fool…”

As a voice whispered from the alley, he froze for a second, then pressed close along the building, listening. His fears became reality as he overheard the exchange from his hiding place.

“Mind your tongue,” scowled an all too familiar echoing voice. It made Hanzo shiver and he frowned.

“You think it wise to follow the guide of a misled cretin? If so, then yes, you are a fool.”

The heavy French accent of the speaking woman confirmed Hanzo’s suspicions and he drew an arrow from his quiver. It clicked into place as the bow shimmered at the ready. If could perhaps get the proper angle to send a scatter shot right into the alley--

“Hey now? Who you callin’ a cretin?”

A chill went up Hanzo’s spine and his eyes widened. Jesse…? No, it couldn’t be.

“I call them as I see them. It is appropriate,” the woman stated.

“Enough,” Gabriel Reye’s ghostly voice bellowed. “We followed your confounded directions.” It grew more stern now, more a demand than a question. “Where. Is. The base.”

“I told ya where,” Jesse admitted. “Ain’t my fault if you couldn’t find it.”

Hanzo felt a lump in his throat. ‘ _No_ ,’ he thought. This couldn’t be happening. Had Jesse given them the location of their sanctuary?

“Nothing can remain hidden for too long, McCree,” Amelie purred. There was a quiet metal click. “Believe me…I _will_ find it.”

He lowered Storm Bow, looking down at the ground. Part of him actually felt nauseated right now. Had Jesse been playing all of them, this entire time, passing their secrets to the enemy? He had blatantly used them and they had all been oblivious.

His thumb grazed the button to activate the scatter arrow, watching the tip of it begin to glow. Somewhere in his gut, the dragons started to stir, woken up by his internal distress and alarm. He didn’t want to risk injuring Jesse, but…

Something suddenly whipped out of the shadows and coiled around his neck. He cried out and tried to release the nocked arrow, but it shot upward into nothingness. A jerking pull dragged him right off his feet and into the alley, throwing him violently to the wet ground.

“Well, well. We seem to have a fly in our midst.”

Hanzo rolled onto his back, glaring upward at Amelie- codename Widowmaker- as she observed him through the red scopes of her visor. Her grappling hook was tight around his throat and it was hard to breathe.

Jesse’s face was one of complete surprise as he looked at him while Gabriel just watched, motionlessly.

The binding metal ropes pulled tighter as his captor smirked. He pried at them, then gritted his teeth. “Release me or you will regret this!”

Amelie leaned closer. “If you think that, then you know nothing off me.”

Watching her lean so close to him with such a smug expression sent a fire through Hanzo’s veins. He scowled and rolled to leap up at her.

“I don’t think so,” she protested, yanking the rope and swinging the metal hilt of her rifle hard at his head with a loud ' _crack!_ '

Hanzo crumpled to the ground as the blinding flash of pain roared through him.

“Woah, woah!” Jesse voice yelled out. “Enougha’ that!”

His ears were ringing, but Hanzo opened his eyes and glared at the cowboy.

Jesse must have seen the look and he frowned. Amelie seemed to watch suspiciously as he stepped over, hands raised. “C’mon now, yer gonna’ strangle him.”

“And that matters, why?” Her visor clicked upward as her eyes narrowed.

“Because it just does, alright?!” There was a desperation growing in his Jesse’s voice.

Hanzo attempted to choke out a protest, that he didn’t need him to defend him, but his oxygen was growing increasingly limited. He could feel his pulse in his throat as the rope contracted even more, cutting into his skin. The dragons were bellowing in his head now, as if begging to be released. He glanced over and saw his bow laying on the cobblestones. If he could just reach it…

When the woman showed no sign of easing up, there was a click of a revolver and, through blurring vision, Hanzo saw the cowboy pointing his gun at her. “I said, let him go!”

Amelie laughed at that, clearly unthreatened. Hanzo’s ears started ringing louder, but he knew she speaking. He could feel blood beginning to trickle down the side of his face. It was cold as the winter air bit at him. His arm stretched out as he pawed for his bow.

“I don’t think so.” Her heeled boot caught the edge of the weapon and she sent it sliding into a snowdrift.

Gabriel’s voice now. Everything was starting to sound as if he were submerged underwater. He didn’t know what it said, but he suddenly felt a clawed metal glove drag him up off the ground, grappling ropes and all.

Jesse’s loud voice protested. Amelie’s laughed hard.

There were more weapons out now. A barrel of a shotgun was right near Hanzo’s head. It wasn’t pointed at him, though. He groggily followed the aim and his heart dropped. Jesse! Using what strength he had left, he kicked his leg back, hard. It collided with a kneecap as Gabriel howled in his ear.

Hanzo was thrown to the ground again and he fumbled a hand into his pocket, trying to reach for the phone. He could barely make sense of anything from the restriction of air; he felt like he was drowning, but he had to let people know! Was that the right key? He couldn’t make out the numbers. It _had_ to be…

“Oh, no you don’t, “ Amelie hissed.

Hanzo pressed the button just as he heard Jesse shout something. A series of gunfire rang through the air…there was the searing rip of pain…a yell...and that was the last thing Hanzo heard before the world went completely dark around him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all amazing. Thank you for still being here with me. At least, I'll assume such since I keep getting hits and kudos.  
> I'm hoping I didn't lose anyone after that last chapter... (I adore Hanzers, I really do.) 
> 
> Up until this chapter, I'd had it all prewritten and was editing as I posted- which is probably funny, because I'm sure I missed a bunch of typos and grammatical errors. My apologies- I don't have a beta reader.  
> Either way, we'll be slowing down a little on frequency of posts now, since I'll be back to writing it in real time. <3 
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_“You never realize how important something is until you lose it.”_  
~ Tom Keifer

 

 

**JESSE**

 

Watching Hanzo’s body crumple to the ground set off a fire in Jesse. He watched in horror, but only for an instant as he wielded his gun, Peacekeeper, at Amelie, trying to immobilize her. The fired shots echoed off the sides of the buildings they were still hovered in between.

“ _Merde_!” She cursed out in French as his hit grazed her arm, gun falling from her grip.

“I always swore I’d never hit a lady,” he confessed as he reared back his fist and landed an unhesitating punch to her cheek. He spat at her, sneering. “But you sure as hell ain’t no damned lady!”

Amelie glowered at him, expression full of menace. “Retreat,” she hissed at Gabriel, flinging her grapple toward the rooftops.

“Coward! Come back!” Gabe shouted after her, standing upright again. His guns extended a second time, and now there was no one to stop him.

Jesse shouted as shotgun shells rained on him. He’d raised his arm and most of them ricocheted off the prosthetic’s metal plating, but he knew a few had found their mark, searing into him like needles.

Gabriel’s icy glare threatened him to retaliate as he let out a sinister laugh. “You may as well surrender while you can.”

“I’d rather die, first,” Jesse replied through gritted teeth.

“If that’s your wish…”

Even injured, Jesse’s reflexes were on point. He rolled out of the way of the next series of shots, ignoring the flashes of pain while he did so. He did a sweeping kick to send his foe off his feet, but Gabriel just laughed again and wisped himself into an ethereal form, leaving Jesse to punt his boots at nothing but mist.

The reaper’s arm materialized enough to collide hard with him, shoving him away. Jesse grunted as his back hit the ground, knocking the wind out of him. His hat fell off, rolling into a dirty pile of murky snow. Damnit. He loved that hat.

His breath came back to him quickly. “Asshole,” he shouted as he pointed his pistol up, letting off the rest of the ammunition from his clip.

Every bullet passed right through its target as Gabe made a hum of satisfaction.

They stared each other down. Jesse’s heart began to pound as he realized he was out of tricks. He hadn’t made it out of this round unscathed…but Gabriel had.

His eyes flicked over to Hanzo as worry built up. He still wasn’t moving. Something in his gut twisted in dread. This wasn’t looking good for either of them…

“You’re starting to bore me.” Gabe’s shotgun appeared from its haze as it pointed right at him.

Jesse stumbled to stand, but the heel of his boots slid in the icy muck under him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Was this really how he was going to die? In a muddy alley, at the hands of a psychopath? Funny, he’d always thought his end would at least be a little more glorious and memorable than this.

Somewhere behind them, bystander’s voices were calling out, obviously lured out by the loud noises of the gunfire. A woman screamed in warning and someone was shouting to steer clear.

Jesse’s thumb brushed the hammer of his gun to load another bullet, but he felt cold when he realized it was empty. There was no time left to reload. Well…shit. He gave a wry smirk and braced himself. “Fine. C’mon, ol’ man…”

That very well could have been it, right then and there. An end to the saga of Jesse McCree. From Deadlock to Blackwatch, from crime to heroics; a final chapter. It wasn’t, though.

A sudden warmth filled the air around them, the cold being overwhelmed- no, actually, more like the cold was fleeing, shoved away. A deep satisfying breath filled Jesse’s lungs and everything suddenly felt perfect. His dread dissipated and his pain numbed. A blinding glow filled the alley as a familiar form soared up next to him.

“Embrace…tranquility,” Zenyatta’s soothing omnic voice thrummed, resonating vibes of serenity through Jesse’s entire body.

Gabriel scowled in their direction, whisking into his ghostly fog, just as a lustrous blur of green soared with a seemingly impossible speed past Jesse’s view. Genji’s angered voice chanted something in his native tongue as he sailed at what was once their attacker. A bellowing sound like a roar filled Jesse’s ears and he shuddered, but wasn’t sure why.

Jesse watched the display for about half a second before he finally saw his opening. The enemy was fleeing and the threat was diminished. He crawled on hand and knee over to Hanzo, not even hesitating as he pulled the smaller man’s motionless body into his arms and ignored his own pain.

“Darlin’?” He whispered, unsurprised when there was no response. That sickening feeling settled in the pit of his gut now. Could this really be happening? He’d literally stood there and just watched him be strangled.

There was a knot in Jesse’s throat as he choked down disgust at himself. _He’d just stood there_.

“C’mon, darlin’,” his voice actually cracked as he murmured, holding Hanzo closer to himself, cradling him against his chest. “I’m sorry. C’mon. Just show me somethin’ here.”

Nothing. Hanzo’s skin was cold as ice. Jesse paled as reality started to crash down on him.

He was nearly sobbing in his desperation for any sign of movement or hope by the time Genji gracefully landed next to them. His feet were soundless as he dropped to a crouch.

“Jesse?” The cyborg’s glowing visor locked onto his brother as the realization of the severity of the situation. “Jesse?”

“I tried,” Jesse defended, but his voice was weak as he clung to Hanzo. His own body was beginning to shake as the adrenaline was fading. “I’m a goddamn idiot. I didn’t do shit--”

“Jesse!” Genji interrupted. “Let’s go!”

He flustered. “What?”

Genji must have seen or felt something stir that Jesse hadn’t been able to notice. “We need to get him to Angela, _NOW_.”

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

“It’s not your fault, Jesse.”

The number of times people had told him that in the past few hours was staring to piss him off. He ignored them all. Fuck this whole situation. Fuck his stupid plan and fuck his bad luck. He should have known this would happen. The bottom line was that this _was_ his fault, no matter what they said.

The cowboy sulked further into his chair and stared at the floor. He’d gone and messed everything up again. This time it was serious. No more card tricks or offensive commentary. No. This time…

He hadn’t meant to cause the chaos. He thought he was helping. If he’d known Talon would go out of their way to follow him in the manner they had, he’d have gone about it all differently. They should have been in Nepal, lurking through the hillsides near the false coordinates he’d given them. How could he have known they’d have searched so quickly, then come after him when they found nothing? They could have stumbled right onto the base in their spite. Thank goodness they hadn’t.

Shifting a little, he winced. His arm was in a  temporary sling, but it wasn’t so bad. It turned out there’d only been one shell lodged in it that Angela had to tend to. That was nothing. He’d had worse.

Hanzo, though… Jesse’s chest felt tight. Why had he even been there? Had he come looking for him? No, that seemed too unlikely. It was probably just coincidence – again in part with his shitty luck. If Zenyatta and Genji hadn’t arrived when they had…

He leaned over and propped his good arm on the edge of bed, resting his chin on it as he just stared at the Hanzo. It unnerved him just how peaceful the other man looked, just laying there. His neck was bandaged and there several stitches on the side of his head.

Angela had been a miracle worker with how quickly she’d set to work on stabilizing him when they’d come barreling back into the base. It had all been a commotion of people running everywhere, demands of clean washcloths, and even a somewhat embarrassing fuss where they had to pry Hanzo from Jesse’s arms to properly aid him. He hadn’t wanted to let go.

He’d wailed up a storm, borderline hysterical. Angela had told him to leave and he’d refused. It had taken ol’ Jack’s stern tone and a few forceful arms to drag him away. When they finally allowed him back into the critical care room, he seated himself by the bed and hadn’t moved since, even when they were fixing his own wounds.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, for possibly the hundredth time, reaching over and taking Hanzo’s hand in his. He didn’t know if he could hear him, he probably couldn’t, but that didn’t stop him. “Never again. I promise.”

Throughout the rest of the day and well into the evening, people would periodically drift into the room. They would ask questions or just give sadden expressions. When they tried to talk to him, Jesse blatantly disregarded it all. If anything, this whole encounter made him realize that the one thing left that he truly cared about was resting in front of him. He was the only thing that mattered and he’d nearly lost him- through his own fault. Right now, this was his world and absolutely nothing else mattered.

At some point, near sunrise, Jesse opened his eyes and realized he’d fallen asleep. He was still half laying on the edge of the bed. As he sat up, he realized what had awoken him.

“Are you planning to sit in here and waste away?” A familiar motherly voice chimed in as the door to the room quietly closed behind her entry.

Jesse ignored her and lifted his uninjured hand to brush a strand of Hanzo’s hair from his resting eyes. They’d had to shave away some of that gorgeous hair to perform the stitches. That wasn’t going to make him happy at all…

Ana just sighed and made her way over, pulling up a chair to sit beside Jesse. She held out a steaming mug to him.

He shook his head and didn’t even bother to look. “Ain’t in the mood for tea right now,” he said in a hush. His voice was raspy from just waking up.

“It’s coffee. You look as though you need it.”

He finally spared a glance in her direction, debating for several seconds, then accepted the mug. Sure enough, the scent of freshly ground coffee greeted him. “Thanks.”

Ana crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, letting him sit in silence for a while. He was appreciative of it, enjoying not having to tolerate more questions of words of sugar coated sympathy.

Eventually she did break the stillness. “How are you feeling?”

He cast a gaze at her, surprised. In all the action, no one had asked him that yet, aside from Dr. Ziegler, and that hardly counted. He didn’t want people to ask him. Right now, he felt incredibly insignificant in this all. “Just dandy,” he lied, biting his tongue.

“Of course you are.” She obviously was seeing right through it all.

He took a drink of the coffee and it settled like lead in his stomach. “Doesn’t matter,” he finally said. “No one’s gotta’ worry ‘bout me.”

“I think someone would,” she added pointedly. When he gave her look of confusion, she motioned at the occupied gurney. “You do not think so?”

He followed her indication and just looked at Hanzo. His jaw clenched with unease as he considered that. “Maybe,” he said softly. “I dunno now. Not after…that.”

She sighed gently. “I think you worry quite a bit. There will be tension, but stand your ground on your heart, young man.”

“My heart?” He leaned back in his seat and took another sip of coffee. He could feel the glorious caffeine of it beginning to fuel through him. He hadn’t known how much he’d needed this.

“You heard me.”

He didn’t argue the statement and stared into the mug. All that was easier said than done. Right now it wasn’t as difficult because Hanzo had no idea what was going on. He didn’t witness his hysterics, his near-breakdown or watch while others gave him pitying wayward looks. No, he was going to wake up and remember nothing after the whole incident in the alley. He would see Jesse as the enemy. He was going to be upset about it all – which he had every right to be.

“I just want him to wake up,” he quietly mused. “I want him to just look at me and tell me what an idiot I am and make me feel like a bumblin’ buffoon.”

Ana laughed, tenderly. “Ah, and he will, I am sure.” She slowly stood up and rested a hand on his shoulder. “And if you do not think that to be love, then I would not know what else is.”

His heart skipped a beat at that as he blinked. “I…well, I guess so...”

“Mhm.” She patted his shoulder as she headed out of the room. “Do remember to take care of yourself, Jesse.”

He watched her go, staying still for a long few moments, then sat the cup aside. Her words tumbled in his head as he thought about them. Was that possible? Was it true?

Aww, who was he kidding?

He leaned forward and rested his forehead on the bed, closing his eyes. “Damned woman,” he said to himself, but there was affection in it. She was completely accurate, yet again. She always was, though…

 

It was far past noon of the following day before Jesse finally rustled up the motivation to leave the room. By Angela’s orders, he took a step outside and pretended to enjoy some fresh air for a time. He thought about trying to find his hat that had been lost in the fray, but he couldn't yet bring himself to walk to the town to look for it. He had a few smokes, made some toast, finally changed into some clothes that weren’t caked in mud and blood, then loyally returned to the room that Hanzo was being housed in.

Quite obviously, he was still asleep. There was a small vase of purple flowers on the table beside the bed now - a “spot of cheer” from Hana.

“Do you think we should fix his hair?” She was meticulously running a comb through Hanzo’s long black tresses, attempting to remove all the tangles in them.

“Whaddya’ mean?” He settled into his usual chair and pulled it close to the bed, propping the heels of his boots on the edge of the mattress.

“They only shaved part of it. When they had to give him the stitches, I mean.” She shook her head. “We should make it even.”

“Uh.” Jesse reached over and picked up a magazine, flipping through it. “I think maybe you should let him be the judge a’ that when he comes to.”

“I’d make it look nice,” she continued, trying to be persuasive.

“You don’t think it’d a little weird to be doin’ somethin’ like that to someone’s hair while he’s out cold?”

She propped her hands on her hips and gave Jesse a look. “Come on. Don’t you think he’d rather wake up with nice hair than have parts of it missing? I know I would.”

“I’m stayin’ outta’ this one.” He false-focused his attention on the articles in front of him and sipped another cup of coffee.

The lack of direct objection was all Hana needed and Jesse did all he could to intentionally look away while she left, then returned with a pair of clippers, setting to work on cleaning up Hanzo’s hair. A chunk of him internally wept at the idea of any of those gorgeous locks being removed.

“Trust me,” she insisted over the mechanical buzzing. “It’s look so good. You’ll love it!”

At that, he looked over at her, brow raised. “Why does it matter what I think?”

“Puh-leease,” she mocked, concentrating. “You’ll be looking at it a lot too. Seriously, how oblivious do you think I am?”

Jesse cleared his throat in a pointed gesture and turned a page. “Dunno’ what yer talkin’ ‘bout, little lady.”

The girl just shook her head in exasperation, then continued with her task. Jesse had to admit, once she was finished, it did look good – really good, just…different. He was happy to see she didn’t take all the top length off, but just gave it a rather fashionable underbuzz. It was going to be very interesting to see how that would go over.

“It’s not like it won’t grow back if he doesn’t like anyhow,” she defended herself as she dutifully brushed away any stray clippings from his pillow.

“I told ya, I’m stayin’ outta’ this one.” He knew she was right, but he wasn’t so certain Hanzo would be so accepting of it. They would just have to wait and see. 

Waiting. Jesse was getting very good at that. He smiled at himself at the irony of it all. The oddest part was, he enjoyed it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Yep, I saw the Reflections comic. I know this isn't how Hanzo got his fancy new hair, but it'll do. ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're nearing the halfway point. I'm not certain, though. I suppose we'll see how much further these crazy musings drag me.  
> Thank you for the comments and encouragement, everyone. Really, they mean so much to me! As I'm writing this, we've had 1,000 hits (wow.)

_"Human beings, we have dark sides; we have dark issues in our lives. To progress anywhere in life, you have to face your demons."_

~ John Noble

 

 

“Take this,” Angela had ushered at one point, shoving a little white pager into Jesse’s palm. “Just go out and do something. It is synchronized with his monitor and it will alert you if he becomes conscious.”

Of course, Jesse had refused the good doctor. He couldn’t make anything too simple. Plus, he really didn’t want to leave. “I’m fine,” he’d grumbled.

She flailed her arms in defeat and had flitted out after checking Hanzo’s vitals. At this point, most of them were learning not to argue with him on the matter. He left the room long enough to get food, change, and other various activities, but he always returned in less than an hour.

They were on the second day of anticipation, waiting for the sedatives to wear off and hoping Hanzo would grace them with consciousness again. People were often peeking in to see, but would disappear just as quickly as they’d arrived, none of them wanting to deal with Jesse and his inflating anxieties.

Even though he still held possession of the itty bitty device, tucked neatly in the front pocket of his plaid button-down shirt, it still startled him when it sounded off.

“Huh?!” He’d dozed off, his body done arguing the fight he’d been putting up with it. He’d half-sprawled his torso over the edge of Hanzo’s bed and drooled on his own sleeve – that was embarrassing. The tones now came through in rhythmic sets of threes, probably about a dozen times before he realized what it was.

Jesse’s heart lurched into his throat as he pulled the pager from his pocket, then looked over at Hanzo. He didn’t look awake. Was this thing broken?

After what seemed to be a relentless eternity- though it was really only about five or six seconds, Jesse stood from his chair. It might have been a trick of the mind, but he could have sworn… he’d have put money down on the fact that the dragon tattoo along Hanzo’s left arm glowed for a second. Literally glowed.

Jesse swallowed a hard gulp and stared in anticipation. Then…graspingly…a soft wheeze of breath escaped the resting archer. His eyes didn’t open just yet, but he was stirring.

“Darlin’?” Jesse whispered and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. Even if he was inevitably going to be furious at him, he didn’t want Hanzo to wake up feeling alone. He’d been there himself. It sucked. Feeling cared about first- then arguments… Yeah. That was a plan.

Tawny golden eyes finally crept open, very slowly at first, squinting as everything started to focus.

“I can turn off the lights for ya’ if it’s too bright.” He knew he only had a few short moments before Dr. Zeigler would soon be dashing into the room. He was certain she’d received the same notification at the same time.

His voice kept it’s gentle speak, calm and relaxed, though he was doing back flips inside. “Yer all patched up now. They been monitoring ya’ real well. Yer fine, darlin’.”

Jesse didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than what occurred. Hanzo’s half lifted gaze drifted toward him. They locked eyes for one of the longest moments of Jesse’s crazy life….and then they just shut. One simple motion after mere seconds of consciousness, and he already had his answers. Hanzo had reached his own conclusions.

“I’m awful sorry, sweetie. I gotta’ explain some things to ya--”

“Oh!” In a flurry of urgency, there was Angela. Her whirlwind entrance tore his train of thought in half like paper and he stepped back as she hurried around, checking Hanzo’s pulse, his dressings, placing little monitors on him.

“Mr. Shimada? Hanzo?” Her voice was like bells and as warm as a summer breeze. “Can you hear me?”

He nodded once, eyes still shut and silent.

“Good, good.” She seemed relieved. “May I ask you some simple questions and have you respond to them, if you can?” Jesse knew she was testing his awareness and stability. He’d been through this part himself more than he cared to remember. Often times, he’d throw bullshit answers at her, just to see her pretty face contort in irritation.

Angela looked over her shoulder and focused her attention on him now. “Jesse, you should go. Procedures and such…”

“Even if he wants me to stay?” He interjected.

“Well,” she hesitated and looked back at Hanzo. “I suppose that is up to him.”

Both of them watched Hanzo for any sign of a reply to her words. Jesse was beginning to think he either didn’t hear her or that he’d passed out again. Either would be completely understandable, given the circumstance.

“No,” the raspy voice finally thrummed. “Leave. _Nokoshimasu_. ”

A ball of emotion thudded in Jesse’s chest. It wasn’t even the denial that caused it, or the fact that he had no darn clue what the third word was, but the way he said it. Just like the first time he told him to leave his room. There was annoyance and disgust in it. The fond undertones were gone.

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” the doctor whispered. She was dismissing him as gently as she could. Her expression was sympathetic, but also determined. She knew the rules.

“Yeah, yeah,” he choked out, trying to brush it off like it wasn’t shattering him. He snatched his pack of smokes off the bedside stand and shoved them roughly into his pocket. “A man needs his space, I get it. It’s cool. Later, gators.” He flashed them a fake smile and quickly exited before anything else could make his heart feel like it was about to rupture.

 

 

Jesse was given “official” demands from Angela to let Hanzo rest for a few days. She claimed it was more for him to recollect his mind than to physically heal. The archer was quietly debriefed of the events behind closed doors, then released back to his room once the doctor saw him fit to do so.

He watched him from afar, scoping that nimble form as he drifted through the halls. He wanted to be the gentleman – to give him that space. He didn’t want to pressure or corner him. He’d waited this long, after all. What was a while longer?

Hanzo slipped back into his own room. Jesse stayed where he was for a while more, leaned against the wall in the shadows, arms over his chest. He didn’t come back out after that. Not for another five hours, when Jesse watched him walk past from where he sat in his own room, the door left wide open while he chain smoked and watched reruns of old daytime television shows.

He tilted back in his chair when he saw the moon-lit Hanzo wander by, silhouetted by the night sky spilling through the hall windows outside his dormitory. He hoped- waited, for him to stop. He didn’t.

“Be a gentleman,” he reminded himself. “Don’t hover.”

It should be that easy. It wasn’t, though. It wasn’t the lust-fueled draw that it had once been. It wasn’t the appreciative discreet staring and lewd thoughts. No, now this was about something more than all that. There were emotions boiling in him now. Real honest-to-god _feelings_. Yeah, they’d shared a bed, but that wasn’t the only thing.

Seven hours was enough space, right? Jesse’s throat went dry as he made his way to Hanzo’s door. He pressed the buzzer. No answer. Was he still not back yet? That idea both worried and saddened Jesse. What if he was in trouble? He was still healing. What if something happened to him?

His anxiety kept spiking until he finally scolded himself. Hanzo was _far_ from harmless, even if wounded. There was no question about that.

Finally, just when Jesse was about to go diving out into the snow to find him, he heard the light footsteps coming down the hall. He waited. _More waiting._

“Darlin’?”

Hanzo greeted him with a blank stare as he approached his room. It was just that, too- blank. No hatred, no affection, nothing. Jesse wondered how much training and meditation it took to uphold that façade. If there was one thing that Hanzo wasn’t, it was “blank.”

“Heya, can we talk for a few?” He braced himself for the denial. At least he could say he tried.

“ _Ugoku_.” Hanzo’s voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Jesse’s brows rose. “Come again?”

Hanzo’s jaw tightened. There was a bandage of gauze around his neck and it shifted ever so slightly at the subtle motion. “Move.”

There it was. Jesse’s chest tightened, preemptively. “Please?” He tried flashing his best puppy dog eyes. Anything to break that cold stare.

“ _Ugoku_ ,” he repeated, but it was harsher now. Not by much, but enough that Jesse noticed.

Jesse didn’t budge. He was strategically leaning over the key pad, similar to how he’d been that first day he’d denied Hanzo entry into his own room, his arms looped over his chest.

They remained there in a stand-off. As he had hoped, it was Hanzo that broke first. His shoulders drooped a little and he looked away. He cradled his folded coat in his arms and almost seemed to hug it for security. “I am tired. I wish to rest and I am not ready to look at your face, just yet.”

“Darlin’, like I said. There’s just some stuff I wanna’ explain to ya before--”

“I am aware of your explanations.”

That halted him and Jesse looked at Hanzo, a little baffled. “Oh. You are?”

“Dr. Zeigler summarized a deal of to me.” The corner of his lips twitched. “Or as much as she was capable within the grounds of patient confidentialities.”

_Fuck confidentialities._ “Well, that’s good, I guess. Saves me a whole loada’ explaining. Or at least, some of it” He waited and there was no response, just as before. He shuffled on his booted feet. “So, we good, then? At least to just talk?”

Again. He started wondering if Hanzo was playing at the silent treatment just to drag out his guilt for as long as he could. If so, he couldn’t really blame him after the shit he’d just had to deal with. It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if there was a boiling pit of rage beneath that level exterior, just waiting to unleash on him.

At that moment, Hanzo suddenly looked exhausted- as much so as he probably was. His eyes shut with a weary breath, then he inclined his head just one time in agreement.

Jesse perked with a twinge of happiness. Hanzo must have caught this, because he curtly added, “just to talk.”

It was better than nothing. He followed Hanzo into the room, trying to choke back to stab of sadness when he noticed that all the lights and decorations had been taken down. It was an irrational feeling, considering that holidays were over, but for some reason it made Jesse feel like a chapter of their tale had been packed away, shoved into the back of a closet somewhere.

He smelled the woody scent of the sticks Hanzo always seemed to burn, surprised that it was a welcoming smell, one he was growing used to- but he probably should curb that since he had no idea what was about to happen.

“So,” he cleared his throat as the door slid closed behind him. Hanzo did not acknowledge him as he sat his coat on the couch and walked into the kitchen. Jesse sighed and trailed after him, watching and waiting as he set water to boil. “How…um…how’re you feelin’?” It was a touchy inquiry, but he wanted to break the silence.

Hanzo toss him a glare over his shoulder and turned on the stove burner. “What do you think? A foolish question.”

The words cut at him and Jesse pursed his lips, taking a step back to hover in the kitchen entryway. “Okay, yeah, fair enough. I deserve that.”

Hanzo grunted and crossed his arms, leaning back against his counter. “Speak whatever it is you wished to say.”

“Uh…right.” Jesse raised a hand, running his fingertips through his hair- a nervous gesture. Hanzo was watching him like a hawk, dark eyes piercing him while he watched him tripping over his words. “I mean…I dunno’ what all Angela told ya. I know what I did was dumb and careless, but I didn’t mean anyone any harm from it. I didn’t know all that was gonna’ go down. Didn’t know you’d be there, either.”

Silence was his only response.

Jesse let out a huffed breath. “I’m real sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“You already said that.” His voice was cold and flat.

The cowboy deflated a little. “C’mon, sweetheart… I didn’t mean anything to happen. You shoulda’ known I wouldn’t do anything to hurt ya.”

“I believe that which I see, rather than what I hear.” Hanzo’s eyes narrowed, seeming unconvinced.

Jesse looked at him, mouth agape. “Really? I mean, after everything? You really think so lil’ o’ me that yer just gonna’ assume I’m turnin’ over to the dark side?”

“I…” He hesitated, eyes finally dropped to the floor. The bitterness in his voice lessened. “I am not sure what to believe.”

“Darlin’…” He took a couple wary steps back into the kitchen, but halted when Hanzo tensed and eyed him warily again. _Too soon._ “Can I at least hang around until yer back on yer feet all the way?”

Hanzo’s brow furrowed. “I am on my feet quite sufficiently.”

“Well, yeah.” Hand through his hair again. “I mean ‘til yer all healed, yanno? Don’t want you strainin’ yerself ‘cause of my dumbassery.”

His head shook and Jesse’s chest felt tighter. “I do not think that wise at this time.”

“How come?” Jesse was pushing now, he knew that, but he didn’t want to accept that anything about them might be coming to a close.

Hanzo was still for a time, then pushed off the counter and brushed past Jesse, whispering. “Excuse me.”

 

**HANZO**

He gripped his hands on the porcelain edge of the bathroom sink. A few moments of peace to set his mind at ease- yes, that’s what he needed. He savored the silence, breathing at a meditative pace. Where was the peace? His reflection stared back at him, an angular replica of his own scrutinizing face.

They had taken his hair.

His _hair._

He understood why and he was actually grudgingly appreciative that the young girl has been considerate enough to not let him awaken looking dismantled, but…

His _hair._

There were not many ties he had left that directly linked him to his home- his clan. Removal of hair was frequently seen as a sign for change. A shift to a new direction and a dismissal of the negative. It was fitting, but he had not been ready for it, just yet.

Jesse probably just stood there in a stupor and allowed her to do so. He seemed quite talented at that.

His teeth gritted and the pressure caused the bandaged injuries on his neck and behind his right temple to pinch and sting. He had denied further pain medication from Dr. Zeigler, explaining that he did not like the listless they left in their wake. This was something he wanted to face on his own.

Hanzo wasn’t doing a very good job at that.

He peeled the bandage off his neck, letting it fall into the waste basket as he took another long gawk at the reflection. “You look like a fool,” he hissed at it. Even more so since the one side was a clipper guard shorter than the other to accommodate the hideous stitches. It was so subtle that most probably wouldn’t notice it- but _he_ did.

His fists balled so tight that his nails left white half-moons in his palm.

_‘Embarrassment,’_ slithered a voice in his head, feeding off his turmoil.

“Quiet,” Hanzo growled at it. “Now is not the time.”

_‘Anger,’_ it continued. He sensed it winding around him in a cocoon, but when he looked into the mirror, there was nothing but himself. _’Yessss…”_

His eyes shut tightly. “Kaosu, _yamete_!”

_‘Desperation….!’_

“Enough!” He shouted, his fist coming in contact with face he was sick of looking at. The mirror shattered into about a dozen shards, several falling into the basin of the sink while the rest remained stubbornly gripping to the wall.

His breathing grew more rapid as he waited. The voice hummed as thought it were about to speak again, then...it vanished. He felt it dissipate, as if fleeing from an unknown foe.

“Darlin’?” There was a frantic rapping on the bathroom door. “You alright in there?”

“Yes,” he barked, perhaps a bit too harshly and too fast.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

A pause. “It didn’t sound like nothing.”

Hanzo frowned and looked at his now segmented reflection in the remaining pieces. It wasn’t nothing. It was something that he would need to take care of on another day, though.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork done by: [JMNP-art](http://jmnp-art.tumblr.com/)  
> She's so amazing!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you just now chiming in-- by the way, HELLO! Where did you all come from so suddenly?! Welcome! -- anyhow, I'm sorry you had to tune in right during this chapter of all times.  
> I'll admit, this one was rough to write at certain points.
> 
> Warnings: Angst (SO much angst), foul language, some violence.
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

 _"Only in the agony of parting ways do we look into the deepest depths of love."  
_ ~ George Eliot

 

 

**MCREE**

 

Jesse didn’t know what was going on, but it made him nervous. He’d heard the yells. He’d panicked at the crash. And the hair on the back of his neck had stood on end when he’d watched Hanzo walk out of the bathroom, calm and still, as if nothing had happened.

“Why are yer knuckles bleeding?” he’d asked. To which Hanzo had growled at him and told him it was time for him to leave.

Right then, at that moment-- that was when it all went to hell…

Jesse stood there, just staring at Hanzo. The other man went about making his tea, as if the red glistening on his hand wasn’t even there. He watched, looking for any sign at all- no shaking, no flickers of unease, no hesitation, nothing. Hanzo was just… _there_.

“Han, what the hell’s going on?”

“Nothing,” the archer barked, setting the kettle back on the stove and picking up his mug. “Why are you still here?”

“C’mon, talk to me.”

Hanzo gritted his teeth. Not a positive response, but it was something, at least. “I can handle myself on my own. I do not need anyone to tend to me- especially you.”

He wasn’t convinced. Jesse chewed on his bottom lip, refusing to get out of the way when Hanzo approached. “Look, hate me if ya feel like ya gotta’, but if somethin’ about this is eatin’ at ya, then ya better let it out. Ain’t healthy.”

Hanzo let out a slow breath with a single rise and fall of his chest. “Move.”

“Stop tellin’ me to move. You should know by now that I ain’t gonna’.”

Those brown eyes narrowed as he stared him down, then, not even jostling his tea, Hanzo reached out and shoved Jesse aside, walking past him and into the main room.

Jesse grabbed the wall for support, glaring. “What the _hell_ is with you?”

Hanzo gave no verbal reply as he walked over and sat down on his couch, pulling a newspaper off the end table and opening it.

“Seriously, Hanzo.” The cowboy crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you too good to even talk to me now?” The words made him cringe, but he was getting frustrated.

The archer delicately sipped his tea. “Leave. This is all done.”

The words hit Jesse like a sack of concrete. Did he mean this conversation, or…? “What?”

Hanzo just closed his eyes, once again seeming unbothered by the situation at hand. “Go now.”

“Han…?” His voice cracked and he caught it. He waited, then cleared his throat. “Just like that, huh?”

No response.

_Fine._

If that’s how this was going to be, then so be it. Jesse opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. It wasn’t even worth it. _To hell with you._ He strode across the room, not even looking back as he jammed his finger on the entry pad button, then stormed out of the room.

This was fucking ridiculous. Yeah, sure, he’d messed up- big time. But he’d apologized. He’d been so sure that Hanzo would understand after he came to and they talked. No one was perfect. People made mistakes. Right?

_Fuck him._

Jesse McCree wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t some puppy that was going to pad around at someone’s feet, waiting for praise and acceptance. No, he’d never let himself stoop that low. He might not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but he had _some_ dignity left to preserve.

He breezed down the halls, fists balled. He was done waiting. What was the point if the stubborn ass wasn’t even going to meet him halfway? He’d spent so much wasted time thinking about it, contemplating and planning, saying words in his head- so much emotion that he’d spewed out for nothing. None of it had amounted to anything. Useless…

_Damnit!_

Pausing to catch a breath, he leaned against one of the walls. It felt cold against his forehead. He was warm. Too warm. What the hell was going on? His chest felt tight.

_God-fucking-damnit!_

He slammed his metal fist on the wall, not hard enough to cause damage, but still strong enough to make his bicep sting from the vibration. This was his fault. Why was he getting so pissed off at Hanzo? He deserved this.

Slowly, he slid down the wall to a hunch on the floor. _His fault_. He buried his face in his palms and prayed for no one to come walking by.

 

 

**HANZO**

 

_Just like that._

Jesse’s words repeated through Hanzo’s mind as he turned the page of the newspaper. He was alone now, but something still compelled him to pretend as though he were reading the articles that meant nothing to him.

Well, somewhat alone. He certainly did not feel completely alone, right now...

The ghostly blue form of the dragon made itself known, coiling around his shoulder like a snake. It was not _actually_ there, but Hanzo could see it. He sipped his tea and attempted to ignore the presence.

_‘Despair.’_

He frowned and lied, “I feel no despair.”

_‘Dishonesty.’_

These tedious beasts. They had not spoken this much to him in decades. “Be gone,” he sighed and took another drink of his tea.

To his surprise, the dragon actually obeyed. It’s lingering faded into nothingness and he was left alone in his thoughts. It didn’t last for very long, however. Several moments passed in quiet solitude when he sensed another being. It was much like the first dragon, but where Kaosu was cold and ominous, Wa was warm and welcoming.

_‘Master.’_

Her comforting telepathic voice was like warm honey, melting through Hanzo’s mental dismay. In a mere second, he felt her waves of concern and worry. Wa had never spoken to him before. “Wa?”

She said nothing, but then coiled herself around him in an embrace. Her physical form may not have existed, but it enveloped Hanzo, regardless. He found himself welcoming it, cherishing it. His voice came as a child-like whisper to his own ears. “What are you doing?”

 _‘Jesse.’_ She hummed the name, sending chills down Hanzo’s spine. From somewhere deep inside, Kaosu hissed.

“Jesse is gone,” he explained flatly. “He will not be returning here.”

_‘Mistake.’_

He frowned. She speaks to him for the first time, only to doubt his decisions? “No. It is not a mistake.”

_‘Balance.’_

Her one word statements were hitting him in ways completely different than Kaosu’s did. He found himself closing his eyes and wanting to willingly give in to the feeling she was offering on him. Yes, where Wa offered, Kaosu forced. “There are many ways to achieve balance. I will find another.”

 _‘Jesse.’_ She repeated the name and Hanzo sighed.

He was about to protest again, when a series of quietly, hardly-audible squeaks filled his mind. They confused him. He felt sadness and fondness combined. Then it occurred to him-- Wa was weeping for the loss of the cowboy.

 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

The dragons haunted him relentlessly after that, their presences stirring and judging his every movement or decision. Hanzo had ignored them well enough in the past, but as of lately they had become so _loud_.

More often than not, Kaosu’s aura of animosity and aggression overpowered Wa’s, fueling him on more than he cared to admit. The more he tried to fight it, the louder it became until it felt like it were literally singing through his veins. He grew discontent with life, doubting everything.

He’d had no idea how intense it had become until when finally, two days later, the team was called to action. Talon agents had overtaken a facility- a military database headquarters- about two hundred and fifty miles west of their base. The close coordinates of the location, combined with the nature of the attacked organization left no question. They were needed, without dispute.

The ground transport was full of turbulence and tilt as it sped them through the winding canyons. Hanzo gripped the seating bar next to him as he was jostled around, his dark eyes scanning his peers. They were divided into two vehicles. Hana and Lena were cramped into the small space with him while Jack drove. The old commander was silent in his duties. Hana was sitting in her pink and blue leather suit, a purple headset with multi-colored star stickers on it was entertaining her as she bobbed her head to a melody that only she could hear. Lena was engrossed in paperwork of some sort, somehow managing to keep it stable through the ride as she idly chewed on the end of her pen.

Hanzo hadn’t seen hide nor hair-- gah, there were those annoying metaphors he had begun growing used to!-- of Jesse since he’d dismissed him from his room that evening. He hadn’t spotted him on the roster for the mission. It shouldn’t be terribly surprising since only a portion of them had been chosen to participate, except that Jesse always seemed to be the first one to raise his hand and volunteer, even if no one else seemed willing. He actually seemed excited to constantly toss himself into the fray of things. _It keeps life interesting_ , Hanzo had once heard him explain.

Always talking, always explaining something. Normally it was infuriating, but right now, it just felt too quiet without the cowboy’s babbling.

The infiltration on the intruders went surprisingly smoothly. There were more of them than the team, but they were better skilled and more highly armed. Hana- codename D.VA on their missions- was enough of a force to be reckoned with. Hanzo enjoyed trailing behind her, using the bulk of her mech as a shield while he focused and aimed his shots to their mark, successfully.

 _One._ One arrow found it’s shot with a wet _“thwick_ ,” and he scrunched his nose at the sound. Target hit, even if unpleasantly so.

Behind him, someone yelled out commands and he followed them, winding himself through the fray as he leapt and scaled one of the walls to perch himself on a utility rail along the heightened industrial ceilings. He had a full view up here. He would make the most of that until he was noticed.

 _Two. Three. Four._ Three more arrows perfectly executed. Just as planned. Kaosu stirred inside him, pleased and priding him with the brutal success. Hanzo tried to ignore it.

 _Five_. A Talon agent cried out before she crumpled to the ground in front of a startled Lena- er.. Tracer- It was difficult keeping up with the names. When she saw the arrow shaft, she waved a salute of thanks in his direction.

 _Six._ The arrow soared through the air, knocking a gun out of the hand of the man who had it pointed at one of his comrades.

Kaosu winded around him, anxious to be released into the chaos. _‘More…’_ Hanzo frowned.

 _Seven._ He waited…waited until the foe turned around. He wasn’t about to hit someone while their back was turned. The string let go and the arrow darted. Target eliminated.

_‘Now! More!’_

_Eight._ The arrowed plinked off a steel air duct, three inches too far to the left. Kaosu laughed in his head. Hanzo scowled, teeth clenched.

Hanzo scolded himself. “Ignore all distractions,” he whispered, nocking another arrow. Everyone was beginning to spread out now. As agents were going down, others were realizing they were losing and fleeing. Tracer took off after one in pursuit. She had that one covered. Hanzo turned elsewhere.

A breeze brushed his scalp. It felt _wrong_ to have it so exposed, normally covered by his hair. He was getting used to the style now, but still…

He cursed under his breath. He was getting distracted again. What was wrong with him, lately?

Someone shouted to his right. He spun on his heel, then dropped down from his post when he realized the source of the sound was out of his line of sight. He watched as the vision of Hana’s smoking mech came into view. She’d abandoned the damaged unit and was running down a hall, trying to reload another clip into her gun. Right on her heels was an omnic agent, firing in her direction.

Hanzo gripped his bow at his side and sped off after them. He chased them down a corridor, bounding off the wall at the turn to not lose momentum. Hana had reloaded now and was shouting insults as she fired openly. The agent was slippery, though, dodging with manufactured reflexes as he closed in on her.

Hanzo renocked his arrow, feet sliding to a halt as a distance.

_‘Yes! Shoot! Kill!’_

“What?” The dragon’s hostility startled him so much that he dropped the arrow. It plinked to the floor and he scrambled to grasp it, but the shaft rolled beneath a metal cabinet before he could manage. Damn!

There was no time to pull another from his quiver. Hanzo kicked off from where he stood and flung himself at the unsuspecting omnic. It’s robotic voice cried out in alarm as the sharpened lower limb of his recurve collided with its head.

 _‘Vengeance!’_ Kaosu’s encouraging waves rippled through his mind.

The agent swung the butt of his gun at Hanzo and he dodged it- not this time! He swept under the omnic’s arm and flung his bow over the enemy’s shoulder, driving the grip riser right to his “throat”

 _‘Yes!’_ Kaosu wailed louder.

The omnic flailed in his grip, trying to pry the bow away. When that didn’t work, he tried to strike out behind him. Hanzo did not yield, though. He was stronger. His eyes darkened as he yanked the bow tighter. Sparks from shredding wires flashed in his face.

_‘Finish it! Now!’_

He gave in to the demands, jerking the limb hard enough that it cut right through the omnic like butter, the metal body going limp against him. Kaosu’s resonating satisfaction flooded through him and he let go, watching it crumple to the floor.

 _Nine_. Sort of. Hana was safe now. It was a success, regardless of the method.

Hanzo tried to catch his breath and looked up, then froze when he saw the girl staring at him with an expression of confusion and horror. He was about to ask her what her problem was, then he realized it-- he had been smiling the entire time.

 

The ride back to base was nothing short of awkward for Hanzo. They had won, chasing off the remaining agents and had assisted the military with reclaiming their building. Winston stayed behind to help them make sure all their technology systems and lines were secure. Most of them were cheering and congratulating one another, both in person and over the communication links. Hanzo, however, sulked in the backseat. Every now and then he would catch Hana peering his way with a wary look and he would turn his gaze to the window. This was not something he could easily explain to someone, nor was it anyone else's business. He knew something was wrong, though. The dragons- something wasn't  _right._

After the long trek back, they finally exited the transport. Hanzo’s knees were stiff from sitting for so long and he was happy to stretch them out. Dr. Ziegler approached them all individually, performing her usual after-assault routine, checking vitals, tending to any wounds and the like. He tensed when she was observing him, but sighed with relief when she departed, none the wiser. Hana was still glancing his way, but her expression was less intense now.

Hanzo was about to depart from the ruckus when a conversation caught his ear.

“Hey, has Jesse come out of his room yet?” Hana’s voice. Hanzo turned away, pretending not to be listening.

“Nada.” That one was Lúcio. There was no mistaking it.

The girl sighed loudly. “It’s been _days_ , though.”

“I know, I know. I keep checkin’ in on him, but he says he’s just fine.”

“Yeah, _right_.”

Lúcio’s voice hushed a level. “Better than he was yesterday, at least.”

Hanzo could literally feel it on the back of his neck, as though both of them were looking in his direction. He let out a slow breath and headed back toward his room without another word.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It still amazes me that this little thing I started whipping up has landed more than a handful of hits and bookmarks. 
> 
> Anyhow, I'm sorry this one took longer to post than usual. Life and such. It's a little more lengthy, so hopefully that makes up for it. Plus, some pretties at the end! ;) 
> 
> Warning: Foul language (dirty-mouthed cowboy.)
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

_"I can't promise to solve all your problems, but I can promise you won't have to face them alone."_  
~ Unknown

  
Hanzo’s nightly walkabout around the base that evening was considerably less relaxing than usual. Since day one of his arrival to this establishment, it was a routine that he rarely strayed from unless there was worthwhile reason. He enjoyed the peace, recollecting after whatever stresses and trials the day offered to him, then would return to his dormitory to meditate.

Tonight, even though the halls were delightfully quiet, there was no peace to be found. Hana and Lúcio’s earlier conversation replayed over and over in his mind, eating at him. It disturbed him that such a domestic situation was creating an impact on everyone. This was originally a personal matter and the fact that it was inconveniently seeping into their operations was alarming.

He stopped to gaze out the rounded windows at several points, his arms hugging the fabric-wrapped item to his chest. This whole situation was ridiculous- _just like the cowboy_.

Kaosu buzzed in the back of his consciousness, putting out vibes of discontent and aggression. Hanzo silently replied to it with his own loathing that it was making him feel so negatively toward everything. The dragon was controlling his well being, feeding off of his anger, just as he was doing so in return. Every day it was getting stronger. A chill raced up his spine at the thought. He truly had _no_ idea how to handle it.

Even through it all, his footsteps still somehow found him outside the last door he thought he wanted to be near. There was a brown paper package sitting on the floor in front of it. He wondered how long it had been there. Hours? Days? No. He had heard it said that others were checking on him. Good.

A lump settled in his throat as he reached up and pressed the red button on the door control pad. He heard nothing on his end, but he knew that there was a buzz inside the room, alerting anyone that someone was there, like a doorbell. He waited, impatiently.

There was no answer.

Actually, he had expected as much, but still… He pressed the button again. After a slow moment passed, he let out a sigh and turned away. What was he even doing here, anyhow? Perhaps it was Wa’s influence driving him. Yes, that had to be it.

He had barely made it two steps when the grazing sounds of skates on metal flooring veered down the hall. Hanzo looked over at the approaching company, secretly scolding himself that he had been caught.

“Heya, Hanzo?”

Hanzo watched as Lúcio halted to a stop. The other man glanced awkwardly over at Jesse’s door, then back at him, his dreadlocked hair bouncing over his shoulders as he did so. “Uh… Any luck?”

He shook his head, not willing to say anything just yet.

“Dang, man.” Lúcio let out a heavy breath and looked at the package on the floor before gliding over and picking it up. He seemed to hesitate for a minute before he finally turned back to Hanzo. “I was gonna’ go check on him. See how he’s doing and all. Unless you wanted to?”

“He does not answer the door.” It was more a statement than an answer to the question.

Lúcio nodded, hair bobbing again. “Yeah, I know. He hasn’t for me, either, but…” He dug around in the back pocket of his brightly colored athletic pants and pulled out a scan card on a thin lanyard. “Medic instant access. Angie and I both have them, just in case of emergencies. Cool, huh?”

How convenient. Hanzo looked back to the door, his brow furrowing in his pensiveness. “You would consider this an emergency?”

“Well,” he crossed his arms. “Kind of, I suppose. I mean, it’s our job to make sure everyone is in peak condition, right? And if they’re not, we see to them. So right now, yeah…” His voice trailed off as he tried to justify his actions.  

Why was he even here? What was he doing? He held his breath in a pitiful attempt to keep himself from agreeing, but his body deceived him anyhow. He bobbed his head once, hoping Lúcio wouldn’t notice.

He did, of course. “Sweet!” The little medic rolled to the control pad and scanned his card over the censor. It beeped once as it accepted his clearance and he punched in a couple digits so fact that Hanzo couldn’t have followed them even if he’d been trying to.

The door slid open with a ‘ _woosh.’_ Hanzo expected to see a startled and confused cowboy looking over at them, but instead, all that greeted them from inside was darkness. He stared, as if gawking at the opening of a bear den.

“Go on then.”

Hanzo felt himself being budged toward the entrance. He glared over his shoulder and hissed. “Get your hands off me!”

“Sorry!” Lúcio laughed, clearly unafraid of him at the moment, and handed him the package that had been outside the door. "Might as well take that in, too. Good luck!"

He squared his shoulders and stepped inside before he could be shoved more. The door closed behind him and he just stood there, looking around.

There were no lights on that Hanzo could see, but at the far end of the main room, a television was on. Its pale glow cast changing shadows across the walls. There was a large futon and a coffee table, littered with at least a dozen beer bottles, paper cups, and ashtrays. Wrinkled laundry was strewn around, hanging off the back of the single item of furniture. Other than that, there wasn’t much of anything else done to the living quarters.  

Hanzo waited for the approach of someone coming to see who had just entered, but it never came. He listened. There were no sounds aside from the background chatter from whatever channel had been left turned on.

“Jesse?” His voice was oddly hushed and uneasy, even to his own ears.

No reply came to him. He could pick up on the scent of old cigarettes and found himself fighting back the urge to clean up the mess.

_‘Jesse!’_ Wa’s voice enthusiastically cooed in Hanzo’s mind. He rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it.

He reluctantly moved further in, stepping over one of Jesse’s gaudy spurred boots that was carelessly abandoned in the middle of the floor. If those were here, that meant he had to be. It felt awkward prying around the other man’s dormitory, but if Hanzo had come this far, he hasn’t going to turn and flee from it like a coward.

“Where the hell are you?” He muttered under his breath while he peered into the kitchen. There were dirty dishes piled in the sink and an opened box of corn puff cereal on the counter, but other than that, there were no signs of recent use.

Since the bathroom was also dark and empty, that only left one possibility. Hanzo held his breath as he hesitantly placed a palm on Jesse’s bedroom door. It slowly opened with a light creak. He waited for a response, but again, none came. It was also nearly impossible to see into the pitch black room.

He remained completely still, listening. Sure enough, he heard it- the gentle rising and falling breaths of someone most likely sleeping. He found himself standing there, listening to it for far longer than intended.

The soft glow of LED numbers was visible and Hanzo followed them, as if drawn in. He stepped carefully to not trip on anything unseen. When he reached what had to be a bedside table, he gingerly felt around. His nose scrunched as he bumped another beer bottle. It jostled when he touched it, giving a smell of stale alcohol. When he finally found the base of a lamp- a desk-style model that was being used for this purpose, he tugged the small chain and faint light filled the room.

There was the cowboy, sprawled across his bed and sound asleep, bedsheets wrapped around his legs and half-dressed body in the manner of someone who had been restlessly tossing and turning. Hanzo sighed as he looked at him. His hair was a complete mess and even though he was asleep, something about him still looked _tired._

Wa’s feelings of happiness washed over Hanzo, effecting him. He smiled a little, but only briefly. He reminded himself why he was here- To check on the man. To make sure he was still alive and kicking. To kick his ass back into some manner of common sense, if need be. … Alright, perhaps not the last one.

He watched over him for a few long moments, then turned away. He wanted to wake him and ask why he was doing this, why he had holed himself away. A pang of guilt stabbed at him. Setting the bundles he still had in his arms on a wooden chair, he set to work on gathering up the dirty clothing that littered the floor of this room. When that was all placed into the ironically empty laundry hamper, he picked up all the stray bottles. Truthfully, the quantity of them was somewhat alarming. Hanzo found himself wondering if Jesse had consumed anything other than beer in the last few days.

Wait. Why did he even care? This wasn’t his problem.

Still, he collected all the garbage in a bag as quietly as possible, dumping the ashtrays into it as well before tying it closed and setting it out into the hall for the maintenance bot to collect. He wondered if this was what Lúcio did when he checked on him.

Like a moth to flame, Hanzo found himself back in Jesse’s bedroom. He tried not to look at the sleeping man as he finally focused back to the bundle on the chair, unwrapping it. It bothered him that somewhere in the back of his head he had known he would end up here.

_Ridiculous cowboy,_ he thought as he picked up what he had brought with him- Jesse’s hat.

He hadn’t intended to go back out for it. It hadn’t been the sole purpose. He had wandered back down to that snow and slush filled alley to reflect on what had happened. He played the scene over and over in his head, more often than he wanted to admit. He’d heard the desperation in Jesse’s voice. He knew it had been there. He’d sat by his bed while he recovered, too. Perhaps…

“Han…”

Hanzo startled and turned around. Was he awake? “Jesse?”

No. The other’s eyes were still closed, still asleep.  He shifted onto his side, stilling as a light snore slipped out.

Hanzo’s throat felt dry. Jesse was dreaming about him? He let out an uneasy sigh and walked over. Carefully, as if it were some precious object, he sat the hat on the pillow beside Jesse’s head. He would find it when he woke up, one way or another. 

It took every bit of restraint not to reach out to him. He wanted of brush the hair out of Jesse’s face, to untangle the blankets from around him, or to even punch him for being an idiot before hugging him. He could. He was just inches away, right there. He looked so peaceful and welcoming- he always was. Hanzo liked peace.

Kaosu suddenly rumbled angrily in his head and Hanzo snapped back to reality. He stood up straight and recoiled away from the bed as if he’d been burned. His foot bumped the chair, causing its legs to make an ear-rattling noise on the metal floor.

Jesse stirred, taking in a deep waking breath.

_Shit._ For some reason, Hanzo panicked. He’d be caught. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, per say, but he wasn’t _ready_ to be caught yet. So he fled.

He darted out of the bed room and through the living area, nearly tripping over one of the obnoxious boots as he hit the control pad. The door opened and he practically tumbled out of it. He didn’t even wait to hear it close behind him as he bolted off to his own room.

 

 

**JESSE**

 

Jesse wasn’t sure if it had been a dream or not. He opened his eyes and could have sworn he saw that lithe form running off. He closed his eyes and slowly sat up. It had to be a dream. Actually, yes… He had been having one. He remembered now.

Why was his light on, though? Rubbing the sleep from his face, he glanced over at the bedside table, then did a double take. The garbage was gone. It looked _clean._

“Huh?” Brow furrowed, he moved to get up, but froze when his arm bumped something. “What in the…?”

His hat! Jesse stared at it, slack-jawed, before finally picking it up in amazement. He’d been so sure it was gone forever. Goddamn! But _who_?

As he clumsily stood and made his way around the neat and tidy dormitory, his suspicions grew stronger. It made no sense to him, but he was fairly sure he knew. He grabbed a beer out of his fridge and popped the cap off of it while thinking.  

He went about his sullen routine of drinking and then showering- lord knows he needed it, it had been a while. Drying his hair in the towel, his mind wandered. None of this made any sense. Lúcio had been coming by, but he never cleaned up. It _had_ to have been Hanzo. What was he playing at?

“Yer confusin’ as hell, Shimada,” he said to no one as he flopped heavily onto the futon while trying to find the television remote.

_‘Need…’_

Jesse startled and dropped the remote, looking around. “Hello?”

When no one replied, he frowned. He knew he’d heard a voice. When he was about to stand up, it rang out again.

_‘Help. Master…’_

 “What the fuck?” He went wide-eyed when he realized that the voice was _in_ his _head_.

_‘Master needs…’_

Jesse gasped as the shadowy blue figure began to materialize in front of him. It was still transparent enough that he could see through it, but it was very much _there._ “What the hell are you?!”

_‘Jesse,’_ it trilled softly, ignoring his question.

He was about to flail in alarm when it washed a feeling of calm over him. A shiver went up his spine at the artificial relaxation. It may have been forced, but it made everything feel _right._ He took a deep breath and tried a second time. “What are you?”

_‘Harmony,’_ it replied. _‘Master needs…’_

“Master?” What? Was he finally going insane? Or was he just drunk and didn’t know it? Then it occurred to him as he eyed the ethereal creature. His face paled. “Wait. Are you…uh...a dragon?”  

He only knew two people who associated with dragons. This one almost looked blue in its radiance. His chest suddenly felt tight again.

The dragon seemed to pick up on its understanding as she literally coiled herself around him in a protective embrace. _‘Help him.’_

Jesse tensed, trying his damnedest not to be freaked out by this. “Wait, what? What’s going on?!”

_‘Imbalance.’_

“Is this about Hanzo?” He managed to choke out the words. When the dragon said nothing, he finally stood up. “Is somethin’ wrong? I mean, that why he was in here?”

It stayed quiet and he ran his fingers through his hair before trying to shake the ghostly beast off himself. It was a fruitless effort and his hands went right through its body. “Alright, fine. Can you just…go away so I can get dressed?”   

The dragon faded into nothingness and Jesse nearly slumped in relief. He walked shakily into his room, looking for clean clothing- which was admittedly an easier task now that all the dirty laundry was picked up. Something in that creepy little creature’s eerie voice made him compelled to hurry, so he grabbed the first things he could find, pulling them on.

His beloved hat now back in his possession, he sat it on his head, not even caring if his hair was still damp. It felt good to be wearing it again. He sat on the arm of the sofa and pulled his boots on. “So, uh…ya still there?”

_‘Yes.’_

“Great.” He couldn’t tell if that was alarming or reassuring.

 

He lit a cigarette as the door of his room opened and he stepped into the hall. Truthfully, he had no idea what the heck he was doing. Maybe he really _was_ going loony. A concerned medic friend couldn’t get through to him, but a see-through dragon just appearing in front of him could? Made no damn sense, none of it.

He nearly turned back as he approached Hanzo’s door. He wanted to be here, yet he also didn’t. He’d been cast aside, so what purpose did he have here? If something was wrong, though, he had to know. He rang the buzzer on the door pad, also knocking on it.

Jesse didn’t expect the other to answer and lifted a hand to press the button a second time, when it slid open. He froze entirely.

Hanzo looked at him scrutinizingly. His hair was down and he was dressed casually. Jesse wondered if he’d woken him, but no, he just seemed generally annoyed. There might have been a flicker of concern in his eyes, but he covered it quickly. “What?”

“Hey, can we talk? I think I got somethin’ that belongs to you.”

Hanzo eyed him, not stepping aside. His gaze drifted over the hat before back to his face. “What would that be?”

Jesse opened his mouth to give some witty reply, but instead, just offered a weary smile. “Can ya just lemme’ in for a minute?”

To his surprise, Hanzo moved. He slipped back into the room, but left the door open. Jesse hesitated for a minute, but followed after him. He was shocked to see any sign of disarray in the room. The pedestal in front of the meditation mat was knocked over, incense ashes sticking to the puddles of candle wax. The wax was still glistening and not yet solidified, so it must have been a recent mishap. “Han? Everything alright?”

“Yes,” the other said too quickly, following Jesse’s gaze to the mess. “But I would hardly think you should be the one asking that. I see you finally emerged from your cave.”

“Yeah, well.” He glanced around for something to use as an ashtray, then headed toward the kitchen to flick into the sink. “Was goin’ through some stuff.”

Hanzo followed him. “Hiding in your room is hardly a healthy manner of coping.”

“Yeah, well, I never claimed to be smart in my methods.”

Hanzo’s voice bit. “That is quite obvious.”   

Jesse just glared at him a little from beneath the frayed brim of his hat. “Hey now. Don’t go assumin’ you know everythin’ about me, Shimada.”

Something flickered behind Hanzo’s eyes, perhaps at being called by his family name.  “I know you are a _ridiculous_ man who makes _ridiculous_ decisions.”

Jesse lifted a brow, looking at the archer. Something about him was off. His eyes were like daggers, his gaze hot, like he was trying to pierce through steel. The little dragon’s previous pleas echoed in his mind. Something didn’t feel right. “Look, you sure you don’t need to talk about somethin’?”

“Is _that_ why you are here?” Hanzo turned his back to him, walking into his kitchen.

The gunslinger frowned and tailed him. “It might not’a been, but I certainly think it is now.”

Hanzo leaned on his counter, not looking at him. That’s when Jesse saw it- or at least, he thought he did. A pale blue hue snaking around the other man. Suddenly, it started to make sense to him. Hanzo had two dragons, after all. He’d had the honor of witnessing them himself in some of their past heated battles, the way they grew and roared out at the enemy, taking down everything in their path. It made sense that spirits so strong wouldn’t stay silent, only to be called on when needed. And if one of the dragons was here with _him_ right now, then the other…

“Han?” His voice was softer now. “Is it the dragon thing?”

Hanzo’s hands clenched tighter into fists. “What?”

 Jesse stepped closer, hesitantly. “The dragons. They buggin’ you or somethin’?”

At that moment, something in Hanzo _snapped._ It ricocheted right through the dragon that was haunting Jesse and resonated his whole being. She chirped out a warning in his head, but it wasn't fast enough!

The smaller man whirled around at lightning speed. His fingertips clenched at the smoke-fumed flannel shirt as he _threw_ Jesse into the wall. He smashed up against him, pinning him there with every bit of slender muscle, his free hand pressing down at the other man’s neck.

His teeth were gritted and Jesse felt a split-second of fear when he looked into those wild eyes. “Hanzo! What the hell?”

Hanzo gave a vicious smirk. “You don’t understand. Right now,” he cut himself off pressing closer for a moment, as if there was a hint of suggestion in his tone- then it was gone. He continued, but this time his voice hardly sounded as his own and it literally made Jesse shiver. He jerked him from the wall, just to shove him back against it, pointedly. “I _am_ the dragon!”

Jesse’s mouth opened as if he’d been ready to speak, but no words came. The intricate inking along Hanzo’s shoulder was radiating a threatening cerulean glow, pulsing with the archer's heartbeat. The cowboy scanned this fact. There was a flicker of unease, then he just raised his chin and uttered in alarmingly quiet defiance. “Good thing I never much cared for reptiles anyway.”

That caught Hanzo off guard and his grip loosened on Jesse’s shirt. “What?”

Reaching up, Jesse grabbed Hanzo’s wrists, yanking it away as he spun them around, reversing the role and pinning Hanzo. “Yer  _not_ a dragon, Darlin’! Yer  _you_.”

Hanzo struggled in his grasp, but for all his efforts, Jesse was still larger and stronger. “Release me!”

“Hanzo! Look at me!” He let go of one hand and reached up, grabbing him roughly by the chin to look into his eyes. “It ain’t you talkin’ right now!”

He continued to fight against him for a solid moment before those brown eyes finally blinked and he _looked_ at Jesse. Slowly, he started to still himself.

“There ya go,” the cowboy’s voice was gentle and reassuring. “C;mon now. Relax.”

Hanzo stared at him with a confused and incredulous expression. Then…he crumpled. He tipped his head forward and just rested it on Jesse’s shoulder as his entire body went limp and shook.

Jesse didn’t know if he was sobbing or just shaking from overwhelm. “Shhhh, Darlin’...” He laid a hand on the back of Hanzo’s head and kissed the top of it. “Ya ain’t alone. I promise.”

He finally let go of Hanzo’s other wrist and wrapped both of his arms around him, holding him tightly. If the situation weren't so alarming, he'd have been overjoyed to have the man back in his arms again. He enjoyed the familiar closeness, but only briefly. There was more at stake right now. Something was  _wrong_. All higher powers be damned, he wasn’t going anywhere now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork done by: [JMNP-art](http://jmnp-art.tumblr.com/), for she is amazing and talented. <3
> 
>  
> 
> (I'm also on Tumblr. You're more than welcomed to come pester [me](http://dancingfox.tumblr.com/), but I mostly just reblog Hanzo and Jesse artwork.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and for most, I would like to offer my apologies. This one took a significantly longer time to post than I anticipated. I was quite sick for a whole week and a half, then was graced with an unwelcome burst of writer's block from having been so artistically stagnant for a while.  
> I kept thinking about several of your comments that stated how grateful you are that I update fairly regularly. That fueled me to keep working on this and I hope I haven't lost anyone from my delay!  
> Please know that I do read each and every one of your beautiful comments, even if I don't reply to them all, and I'm so flattered that you take the time out of your day to read my silly drabbles. xo
> 
> We still have a few chapters to go after this one, but I'm already plotting out the next fic (it's gonna' be a doozy!). If you're really enjoying this, feel free to pop a "subscribe" on me to keep up with whatever comes afterward. :)  
> But anyhow, one thing at a time! Enjoy this chapter. A bit of soft after all the drama I've been putting Hanzo through. <3 
> 
> Warnings: A liiiittle bit of sexual-like content toward the end. *Ana voice* Get in there!  
> ______________________________

_"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."_  
~ Lao Tzu

 

 

It was well past sunrise before Jesse managed to calm Hanzo enough for him to be able to fall asleep. He'd carted the smaller man up off the kitchen floor, to his bed, and just laid next to him as he continued to shake in his arms. He never once opened his eyes to look at Jesse, but his fist stayed clenched on the cowboy’s chest with a handful of his shirt trapped in it.

“I’m here. I’ve got ya, Han,” he whispered soothingly, repeatedly. His fingertips brushed through that long black hair, attempting to offer him whatever calming and comforting gestures that he was capable of. Jesse had no idea what Hanzo was feeling right now or what mental struggles he was dealing with, but he knew it had to be intense. The way he had looked at him, it was like someone else staring at him through Hanzo’s eyes. Just remembering it sent a chill down Jesse’s spine. “Ya ain’t alone. I’ve got ya, darlin’. I’m here with ya...”

Jesse could tell exactly when Hanzo finally dozed off because the grip on his shirt began to loosen, then eventually went slack. He sighed softly in relief and just watched over him while he slept. He entertained the idea of napping along side of him, but he knew his adrenaline was still soaring too high to allow him to do so.

About two hours of still and silence had passed when Jesse grew irresistibly restless and carefully slid himself out of the bed, being mindful not to jostle the sleeping man. He could be clumsy as an ox at times, but the stealth in which he weaseled off of the mattress surprised even himself. In a return gesture of gratitude, he set to work on straightening up Hanzo's living room. He stood the pedestal and its usual contents upright, scraped the dried wax from the toppled candles off of the floor with his identification card, then wiped it all down with cleaner to get rid of the cloudy residue it left behind.

Hanzo’s bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom were already so neat and clean, so there wasn’t much left to do after that. “Hmm.” With a thought, he wandered over to the main room's closet and rifled through it until he inevitably found the discarded box of holiday lights. Christmas had long since past, but still…

 

It was nearly noon when Jesse finally heard Hanzo stir. He stilled from where he was leaning over the stove top as he heard the click of the bathroom door. He waited for a while, then heard it again as the other finally emerged and stepped into the kitchen.

“Hey there, darlin’.” He offered him a wary but hopeful smile.

Hanzo, who frankly looked like hell, watched him through groggy shadowed eyes. His hair was a mess and his robe was hanging off of one shoulder. He seemed to notice this just as Jesse did and pulled it back up into place. “What are you doing?” His voice was hoarse and quiet. The robe slid down his shoulder again.

“Makin’ ya some breakfast,” he explained as he flipped a pancake to its other side. “Figured ya’d be hungry when ya woke up, so…” His voice trailed off as he focused on the hot skillet in front of him.

When Hanzo said nothing of opposition in response, Jesse reached up into the cabinet and pulled out the cup that he always saw Hanzo taking his tea in. He sat it carefully on the counter top and grabbed the kettle to fill it with faucet water. “Did ya sleep well?” Again, nothing. “Han?” He glanced over, then paused.

Hanzo was literally leaning against the wall, his eyes now shut as he was starting to slide down it, nodded off.

“Woah, there!” Jesse almost laughed as he rushed over to catch him before he hit the floor. Hanzo startled and blinked his eyes open, grabbing onto Jesse’s wrists. “Sleepin’ right on yer' feet now, huh? C’mon, darlin’.”

“What? Jesse!” Hanzo flailed a little as Jesse lifted him right up into his arms and placed him onto the counter top to sit.

“Relax,” he chuckled. “I ain’t gonna’ drop ya. Now just sit right there where I can keep an eye on ya, alright?”  

Hanzo made a quiet grunting sound, but offered no protest. Satisfied enough, Jesse went back to work on preparing his tea. He sat a teabag into the cup, then stopped for a moment to actually _look_ at it for the first time. “Hey, Han? Yer’ cup get cracked?”

Yawning, Hanzo passed a glanced in it's direction. “It has been for a very long time. Look more closely.”

Jesse did so, bringing it inches from his face. His jaw dropped as he realized what he was seeing. The spider webbing of cracks along the cup was actually tiny and intricate rivers of gold. They sparkled ever so slightly when the light hit them just right. “What in the…?”

“Kintsugi,” Hanzo explained as he watched him. “The art of repairing broken items with gold.”

“Wow. It looks pretty nifty, to tell ya the truth.”

Hanzo nodded once, approvingly. “That is quite the point. It expresses the belief that a broken object is only more beautiful after it has been mended, rather than be considered flawed. It adds detail to its story and history.”

Jesse smiled as he sat the cup back down onto the counter. “Kinda’ like a battle wound, huh? I like that.”

He could see Hanzo visibly contemplating that similarity, then the archer bobbed his head again. “Yes, I suppose so. The concept is very similar.”

“Good.” Jesse picked the spatula back up and tapped it on his metal arm before he flipped another pancake. “I like that theory. I mean, this sure as hell ain’t gold, but I can relate.”

Walnut brown eyes drifted to Jesse’s arm as Hanzo realized what he was referring to. “Yes, I see.”

Silence fell between them for a while as Jesse plated the last of the pancakes and turned off the burner under the skillet. He tossed a dollop of butter on top of them, then opened the cabinets to hunt for the syrup.

“I do apologize.”

That grabbed Jesse's attention back. He craned his neck toward Hanzo. “Come again, darlin’?”

“For last night.” Hanzo’s voice was quiet, his hands neatly folded into his lap at he stared down at them. “I was… I…”

“Hey, now.” He sat the bottle of syrup down and walked right over to the other, reaching up and cupping a hand on each one of Hanzo’s cheeks. “Look at me, Han.” When he had his attention and their eyes met, he continued. “Crazy stuff was goin’ down. It wasn’t you talkin’ and I know that. I dunno’ if all that is why ya booted me outta’ here before, but I ain’t leavin’ until I know yer' doing alright. After that, though? If ya want me gone, I’m out.” Jesse hated to lay such an agreement on the table, but after everything that had been happening, he didn’t want to dance around anymore hidden promises or subtleties.   

Hanzo stared back at him, his eyes shining as Jesse could tell he was hanging on his every word. It was a wonderful change of pace from the night before. After a soft exhale of breath, his voice whispered. It almost seemed forced, but it was still spoken. “I do not want you gone, Jesse.”

That was all he needed to hear. “Then I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Ya’ can kick my ass to kingdom come and tan my hide or pummel a gazillion dragons down on me faster than green grass through a goose, but I’m gonna’ be on ya’ like glue now, got it?”

Brown eyes slowly blinked at him. Then, the corners of his lips quirked to a smile. “You are still so exceptionally difficult for me to understand at times.”

Jesse had to laugh at that. “Yer' stuck with me. That better?”

“Yes.” Hanzo smiled a little more and it made Jesse’s heart do a back flip in his chest.

“So.” He cleared his throat and looked at him with a hopeful pout. “We good then?”

The archer chuckled lightly. “We are good.”

So Jesse kissed him. It was a tender and slow kiss, but it was one that he poured all the emotion into that he’d been dealing with recently, not to share them with his partner, but to release them from himself. As if in kind, Hanzo’s arms slid around his shoulders as he furthered the kiss, welcomingly. There was no progression past that point, no pressure for more or any building intensity- just the need to be in one another’s arms again.

As if on some inconvenient alarm, the slow whistle of the kettle started up and began to build. It continued on, ignored, until its pitch was so high and earsplitting that Jesse had to pull out of the kiss and move it off the burner. “I hate this goddamn thing,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna’ buy you an electric one.”  
  
“You will do no such thing,” Hanzo insisted as he slid down off the counter and completed making his tea that Jesse had started.

They sat together at the small kitchenette table and ate their pancakes in silence. It wasn’t the awkward sort of quiet, however. Perhaps they were just both so engrossed in their thoughts that neither of them spoke until Jesse stood back up to collect their empty plates.

It was Hanzo who chimed up first, as he delicately was dabbing the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Jesse? Why _did_ you come here, last night?”

Oh. Right. Jesse picked up a sponge, squirting a stream of dish soap onto it. “Well, uh, I kind of had a visitor last night who told me to.”

“A visitor?”

“Yeah. Tiny little thing. Seemed nice enough, though.”

The legs of Hanzo’s chair squeaked on the floor as he stood up, then found his place at Jesse’s side. He reached for the dish towel, waiting to take clean plates from him to dry as he finished washing them. “Who was it?”

Jesse shrugged. “Dunno’ it’s name. It never told me.”

Hanzo’s brow furrowed in confusion as he dried the first plate. “It?”

“Yup. Just kinda’ showed up. All twistin’ around me and talkin’ in my head. Honestly, I thought I was goin’ insane for a while there. It started talkin’ about ya and sayin’ ya needed help. So…I came.”

Next to him, Hanzo went completely still.  Jesse could tell he suspected exactly what he was talking about.

“Cute lil’ thing, it was. Really pretty, actually. You see those all the time, Han?”

Hanzo’s voice was one of surprise. “She…she spoke to you _and_ showed herself?”

“Mhm.” Jesse stepped aside to grab the skillet off the stove and added it to the sink of soapy dishwater. “Not a common thing, I’m guessin’?”

“No,” he spoke quieter as he dried another dish.

They lapsed into silence again, finishing up the rest of the dishes. Hanzo was placing them back into their proper places in the cabinets as he said gently, “Her name is Wa.”

“Wa?” Jesse turned to face him. “The dragon?”

He nodded as he closed the cabinet door. “She has always been the more tender and concerned of the pair of them.”

Pair of them. Right. Jesse chewed on his bottom lip. “So, the other one, then?”

“Kaosu,” Hanzo said, his voice dropping an octave.

“Last night, that was…?”

Another nod.

“Gotcha.” Jesse took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair as he thought. “So, how do we fix this?”

“We?” That got Hanzo’s attention and he looked over at Jesse in surprise.

“I told ya, darlin’, yer’ stuck with me now. And we’re gonna’ see this through together.” He walked over and put his arms around Hanzo, just holding him there as he looked down into his eyes. “Now, there aren’t any top secret dragon masters anywhere that might know how to help with this whole balancin’ thing, are there?”

Hanzo shook his head and gave him an odd look. “No, no. It does not usually work like that. Even in the Shimada Clan, most dragon bearers only held one beast.”

Jesse smiled admiringly at him. “So, yer' special then. I’m not surprised.” 

A faint flush appeared on Hanzo’s cheeks. “That is not what I was implying.”

Jesse laughed, softly. “I know, but _I_ was. C’mon, darlin’.” At that moment, he slid his arms down under Hanzo’s backside and hoisted him up, turning to carry him from the kitchen.

“What are you doing?!” The smaller man squirmed and tensed, then clung to his shoulders.

“Relax. I told ya, ain’t gonna’ drop ya.” He carried Hanzo into the living room, then gingerly placed him onto the couch. “All this that’s goin’ on…well, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have some cheer back, yeah?”

“What do you--?” Hanzo began to question his statement, but hushed himself as his eyes followed Jesse. The cowboy walked over to the far wall, then leaned down, hooking a plug into an outlet.

The entire room suddenly glowed in a familiar warmth of multicolored lights. They draped the corners of the ceiling and around the entry door, just as before.

“Jesse…”

“I know ya packed ‘em all up.” He stood upright again and walked back over to the couch. “And if ya wanna’ do that again, that’s fine. Hell, tell me to and I’ll do it so ya don’t need to.” He knelt down in front of Hanzo, reaching out as he took the other’s hands in his own. “Ya could probably tell me to do anything, darlin’, and I would…”

Hanzo stared at him, his eyes seeming to search for where Jesse was going with this. His brow furrowed as he listened.

Jesse looked into those eyes, his own sincere as a gentle smile danced on his lips. “Dunno’ if I can ever really put into words what ya do to me, honeybee. Ya got this crazy ability to just make me feel everything times three...maybe even more than that. Ya make me think about stuff I ain't ever wondered about, and I like it. On top of that, all I really wanna’ do is be around ya, all the damn time. I think that’s why I didn’t take it so well…before. Don’t wanna’ imagine not bein’ able to just reach out and touch ya.” 

“Jesse, you--”

He put a hand up to stop him, not finished yet. “I mean, I know the two of us ain’t the most stable of people. We’ve both had some bad shit go down in our lives. Anyone who fancies up what we do and thinks that ain’t the case is an idiot. Like I said that time before, we all got some baggage. And darlin’, I think yer’s matches pretty dang nice with mine.” Finally stopping, he brought Hanzo’s hands up to his lips and kissed the backs of them, affectionately.

Hanzo was quiet for a time, just looking down at him with a neutral expression. Eventually, he whispered. “You are ridiculous.”

Jesse offered a half grin. “Yeah. Fer’ you, sweetheart.”  

The archer sighed, then withdrew his hand from Jesse’s hold, but only to reach forward and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. Jesse’s heart thumped when the other man stopped, his nose just an inch from his own.

“My baggage would be significantly more elegant than yours. And cleaner.”

“Hey, now,” Jesse pouted.

“But,” Hanzo continued. “It is fortunate that I do enjoy some contrast in my life.”  

Jesse would have replied, but Hanzo’s lips were abruptly on his. It was nothing like the kiss they’d just shared in the kitchen. It was three seconds in and they had already both tilted fully into it. It took Jesse’s breath away and suddenly, it seemed as if any insecurity he had left about “them” was suffocated and left behind.

Hanzo’s fist still gripped his shirt and he used it to his advantage, literally pulling Jesse onto the couch. The cowboy let himself be tugged without hesitation, if less gracefully than he wanted.

“Yanno’,” Jesse mumbled against Hanzo’s lips as his knee awkwardly dug into one of the cushions under them. “This ain’t why I was stickin’ around. Just want ya’ to know that.”

A small breathy huff of annoyance at the interruption slipped from Hanzo. He opened his eyes a sliver and looked at him. “Are you objecting?”

“Hell no,” Jesse chuckled. He rested a hand on the other man’s chest, easing him back onto the couch as he kissed him again. He felt hands undoing his belt buckle and his pulse rose. This was actually happening again. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking Hanzo’s.

‘ _He’s nervous,’_ he realized as he felt Hanzo’s fingertips shaking at his waist. That was alright, though. So was he. It seemed silly to be, but he was. This was not the first intimate moment they’d shared, but after everything that had happened between them, recently…

“I’ve got ya,’ Han,” he pulled back, whispering as he tipped his head down to kiss the other’s neck. His hat fell off his head, landing somewhere around them.

Hanzo’s breath hissed at the contact on his neck and he arched against Jesse. “Wh-what?”

“Ya’ heard me.” He nipped gently at his skin as his hand slid between them to undo the ties of robe that was keeping him from his beautiful archer. “Ya’ don’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout, ‘kay? I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’m all yer’s, now.”

Whether that statement comforted or bothered him, Jesse had no idea, as Hanzo stayed silent while he began undoing the buttons on Jesse’s shirt. Still, the fact that he wasn’t denying him was a reassuring thing. Smiling to himself, Jesse got up from the couch and lifted Hanzo into his arms once more as he carried him off into the bedroom.   


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you all for sticking with me since the last update! (And if you're just now tuning in, then welcome! Pull up a seat and get comfortable! xo) And please accept my humble apologies on the delay. Blah blah, life stuff, been sick, etc, etc, all sorts of things that no one really wants to hear- you're here for the goods! And I am delivering, finally! :) 
> 
> Warnings: Alcohol, intoxication, tobacco usage.
> 
> (If you're actually curious about any non-fic me stuff, feel free to pop on over to [my Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dancingfox). It's nothing spectacular and usually a lot of art reposts, but I do also post Check Mate updates and ramblings, on occasion.) 
> 
> ____________________________________________

_“Be gentle when meeting parts of yourself that you are still at war with.”_  
~ Unknown

 

  
“Darlin’? Whatever that is, it reeks.”

“Hold your breath, then.”

Jesse’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he watched Hanzo preparing his breakfast. As soon as he’d witnessed him pop the lid off of a jar labeled ‘ _bonito stock,’_ then caught a wiff of it, he had immediately departed back to his own room, then returned ten minutes later with a trusty box of Lucky Charms. He was now sitting on the kitchen counter, watching the other man while he spooned the marshmallow cereal into his face. “S’gross!” He muttered, mouth full. “Gonna’ stink up the whole place.”

Hanzo only shook his head as he added a cap full of the fishy granules to a pot of boiling water, then poured in some rice. “You should try it some time. It is surely better for you than that bowl of sugar you are inhaling.”

“Probably,” Jesse agreed as he took a sip of milk, right from his bowl. “But this here doesn’t make me wanna’ vomit just from sniffin’ it.”

“What a charming mental image. Thank you for that.”

Jesse swung his feet and just grinned. “Ain’t it, though? Hey, you picked me. Part’a the whole package, darlin’.”

Hanzo made a noise his throat that was probably supposed to resemble annoyance, or something similar, but he was smiling as he did so and thus destroying his facade.

“So, what’s on yer agenda fer today?”

“Stop speaking with your mouthful. It is very rude and unsightly.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “M’kay. What’s on yer agenda fer today, Mum?”

Hanzo gave him a half-hearted glare, then transferred his rice into a bowl. “I think it wise for me to find Genji and speak with him to see if he has encountered anything similar to the issues I have been facing lately.”

“Genji? He’s only got one dragon though, right?” Jesse watched him as he raised his own bowl to chug the remaining milk in it.

“True,” Hanzo nodded in agreement as he sat down at the table to eat. “But he might have some wisdom of note that I can stew over.”

“S’a good point,” Jesse agreed through his milk.

“What of you?”

Jesse shrugged a shoulder and sat his empty bowl in the sink. “Dunno’. Winston’s got me and Jack on some lil’ mission today. Easy stuff, I think just pickin’ up some supplies or somethin’.”

“Ah.” Hanzo stared into his bowl, trying to figure out why that bothered him. He knew the cowboy was more than capable of handling himself, but the recent events had unexpectedly made him more unwilling than he cared to admit to let him out of his sight. How irritating. Especially for something so simple. He wasn’t used to _caring._

“Should be pretty quick, though,” Jesse continued, pulling Hanzo out of his daze when he slid himself off the countertop. “Then I’ll be right back to annoyin’ ya, as usual.”

Hanzo was about to reply to that when a kiss landed on his cheek. He blinked in surprise at the gesture.

“I’m off to go do my thing. Catch ya’ later, darlin’.”

He tried to reply. He really did. His brow furrows as his fingertips touched his cheek where he’d kissed him. Even as he heard the familiar ‘ _whoosh’_ of the door opening and closing, he still sat in silence for a moment. Finally, a small smile touched the corners of his lips. “Be safe, Jesse,” he whispered to no one but himself.

   
  
Hanzo’s attempt at locating his brother turned out to be less simple than he had originally intended. Apparently Genji and Zenyatta had set off on a personal mission in the early morning hours and were nowhere to be found on base, even though they had returned and been debriefed hours ago, according to Winston’s reports.

“Maybe they’re at that club!”

“What club?” Hanzo eyed Lúcio with curiosity.

“Club Nightingale! It’s downtown. I used to spin there. A lot of us go after we get done with missions to unwind a bit!”

He frowned, slightly. “I have never heard of this tradition.”

The other man’s expression quirked to one of unease. “Oh, well, you know. It was never really an official established routine, we just…”

“Did not want to invite someone such as myself who might sour your fun?”

“Oh man, that’s not where I was going with that, Hanzo.” Lúcio shifted nervously on his feet.

 “I know,” he admitted as he placed the attendance roster back on the small table outside of Winston’s office. “I am aware what others think of me, though.”

“No, no, that’s not it. Hanzo, it’s just…well, you don’t really seem like the clubbing type.” He offered him a smile and skated a half-circle around him. “It’s nothing personal.”    

“I have always preferred to keep a low and less ostentatious profile.”

“Hey, that’s fair.” Lúcio’s head bobbed. “But if you really need to find them and you’re willing to adventure outside of your comfort zone, that’s probably where they are.”

Hanzo turned and gave Lúcio a respectable nod. “Thank you for telling me. I do appreciate it. I believe I will go and see for myself.”

His face brightening, Lúcio grinned. “Heck yeah, man! Any time. And the next time we go down there, I’ll make sure someone pulls you along with us!”

He cringed discreetly. While he was exploring outside of his usual social settings, Hanzo was not so keen on the idea of being _pulled_ anywhere. He was trying, though. “Perhaps.” With that, he excused himself and departed from the conversation before he could be volunteered by others for anymore attendances.

 

Club Nightingale was a large building that Hanzo had walked past on several occasions. He had never paid it any mind and had even gone so far as to move to the other side of the street to avoid encountering any of the intoxicated club-goers.

He paid the transit driver, showed his identification card at the door, and somewhat reluctantly stepped inside. The music was blaringly loud as it assaulted his ears and almost immediately made his head throb. Who even listened to songs at this volume for entertainment? As he gazed around, Hanzo saw the answer to that. Even this early in the day, people, both humans and omnics, were dancing out in the middle of the floor, illuminated by flashing multi-colored lights. There were a few others perched at the bar, ordering drinks. He had a feeling that during the evening it was an elbow to elbow battle to wave down a bartender’s attention there.

Looking around, Hanzo saw no sign of his brother or any other familiar faces. Perhaps they just hadn’t arrived yet. Lúcio had seemed so sure they would be here, after all. He made his way to the bar and ordered a soda water.

“Just water?” The omnic bartender stared at him.

“ _Just_ water. It is not even noon yet.” How irritating.

A nearby couple flashed a judgmental look at him with their fruity red cocktails in hand. Hanzo ignored them and took the glass as it was handed over. He left his payment on the bar, then quickly stepped away, anxious to be away from scrutinizing stares.

“Anija?!”

Hanzo froze. Even over the music, the voice and it’s enthusiasm were unmistakable. He barely had time to turn around before the cyborg’s metal body all but plowed into him splashing soda water all over his sleeve.

“Hanzo!” Genji squared himself, placing his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders while he wobbled slightly. “What are yooou doing here?”

A sigh. Was he not sober? Lovely. “I came to speak with you.” The tunes of the club were even more bothersome than before, as he found he had to raise his voice to an uncomfortable level in order to be heard over top of them.

“Me?” His head tilted, but he seemed to understand, seeing as two seconds later Hanzo found himself being pulled by the arm through the sea of people.

“Where are we going? Unhand me!” He scowled, not enjoying being lead to somewhere unknown.

Genji didn’t reply in words, but instead lead them up a small staircase that overlooked the dance floor. There were a few tables tucked away on the far side of the partitioned section. He took a seat, motioning for Hanzo to sit as well.

“What is this? The V.I.P section?” At least it was quieter up here. The music was still loud, but the walls seemed to muffle it just enough that the volume was more bearable to speak over. He pulled a chair out and sat down in it, eyes scanning his brother. He was holding something shiny and golden in his lap, but he couldn’t decipher what it was. A toy ball of some sort?

“In a sense.” Genji laughed behind his silver face plate. “This is where they usually have us sit.”

Usually. When they came here without him. Hanzo nodded, then slipped a hand into the pocket of his coat and slid a cigarette from his pocket. He had stealthily stolen a few from the cowboy’s pack before he had departed, this morning.

“Since when are you smoking?”

“Casually,” Hanzo just mumbled in reply as he lit the cigarette with a match, then tossed the tiny smoking stick into the ashtray on the table. Genji didn’t respond, but just watched him, waiting expectantly. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Does your dragon speak to you, Genji?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, his shoulders flinching. “What?”

“Your dragon,” Hanzo clarified. “Does it speak to you?” Why did this feel so awkward?

An unspoken moment passed between them, and just when he thought Genji was ignoring the question, he nodded his head once. “She used to. Now it is a far less frequent occurrence. I _feel_ her more than hear her.”

“Why is that?” Hanzo perked up.  

“I am not sure. I have not thought much of it.” Even behind the glowing visor, Hanzo could feel him staring at him. “Are your dragons bothering you, Hanzo?”

“One of them has become rather unruly, as of late.” A plume of smoke exhaled from between his lips and he watched it drift upward before it wafted away, caught in the updraft of the club's ventilation systems.

“Just one?” Genji sat the golden ball on the table, rolling it idly between his palms like a cat.

“Just one.” Why did that golden ball look so familiar?

Another period of silence passed, then Genji finally shook his head. “I am not sure if this is something I can help you with, Hanzo.”

He sighed, having expected as much.

“Komorebi and I have never had any ill-temperament between our connection. Your situation is alien to me. I do know someone who may be better suited to help you, though.”

Hanzo eyed him, skeptically. “And who might that be?”

As if perfectly timed, the omnic form hovered up beside them. Zenyatta nodded a greeting to Hanzo, then placed a beverage on the table in front of Genji.

“Oh! Thank you, Master.” The cyborg’s tone changed almost immediately. He popped his face plate off as he took a sip of his drink.

Hanzo hastily looked away. It was still difficult for him to see Genji in the state he was in, even if it was something he should have long since grown accustomed to. Something stirred within him- guilt, perhaps? Hanzo attempted to push the thought aside and focus on his reason for being here in the first place. His brother's state was making it more difficult, however. “So you _have_ been drinking.”

“Long Island Iced Tea. You should try one, Hanzo!”

Zenyatta’s soft chime of a laugh rang in their ears. “Yes, though I dare to suspect there is not actually any tea in it. I watched it be made.”

“Oh well.” Genji seemed to brush the concern away, grinning, then looked over at Hanzo and back to Zenyatta. “Hanzo has been having some complications. Is it possible you might be able to offer him some guidance, Master?”  

“Is that so?” The omnic looked over to him, then hovered onto the seat beside them, though he never actually sat, entirely.

Before Hanzo could even answer, Genji spoke up and filled him in on the situation, repeating everything that his brother had just told him. At least it was reassuring to know that Genji had actually been listening to him.

“I see,” Zenyatta hummed, turning in his direction. “When did you notice this beginning?”

“After the incident, when I was in the med bay.” Hanzo stared at the surface of table as he took another draw from the cigarette, then snuffed it out in the ashtray. This whole situation seemed incredibly uncomfortable.  

“As I suspected.” The monk folded his hands into his lap. “And has anything of significance changed in your life, recently?”

Hanzo’s brow creased and he lifted his head to look at him. There had been…but it was not something he felt filling to speak openly about.

As if understanding, Zenyatta looked over to his favored student. “Genji, would you please leave us to talk privately for a few moments?”

Genji made a faint pout, but stood obediently, turning to walk away. “Of course, Master.”

“Genji?” While still facing Hanzo, Zenyatta extended an open hand, waiting.

Hanzo watched curiously, then made a strange face when his brother smirked and placed the golden ball in the omnic's palm. It floated up to join the rest of the orbs that hovered around Zenyatta's shoulders.

“Thank you.”

Grinning, Genji picked up his drink and stepped away from the pair of them.

Hanzo cleared his throat once they were alone. “You two really are…?”

“Yes.”

Well. Interesting. Hanzo sat back in his chair and debated lighting another cigarette.

“Hanzo. I suspect I know what is causing you such imbalance in your life.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed. “So do I. One of the dragons--”

Zenyatta raised a hand to silence him. “Your dragons are soul-bound, Hanzo. They act in accordance to your mind and emotions, and focus on your inner desires.”

“I am not sure it is as…intrusive as you make it sound.”

Zenyatta observed him closely. “Oh, but I do think it is. Tell me, have either of your spirits connected with Jesse McCree?”

Hanzo froze and looked at him. “How do you know of that?”

“I do not,” he answered, quite simply. “I am only making an unscientific guess.”

Hanzo shuffled uneasily in his seat, his voice lowering in volume. “Once.”

The omnic nodded again. “I see. Perhaps they view him as the solution to your need for inner balance. I believe we previously discussed this matter already.”

“That makes no sense,” he scoffed. Why did he need to speak in riddles and vague statements.

“Does it not? Does Jesse McCree not help heal your soul? Does he not lessen the weight of your self-loathing? Perhaps he is exactly what you need.”    

That was enough of this. Hanzo stood and looked down at him. “I sincerely doubt that has anything to do with my problem.”

“Perhaps not.” Zenyatta seemed unphased by his abrupt movements. “As I said, it is only a guess. I would think it one that could at least deserve further evaluation, however. Perhaps over some meditation?”

Shaking his head, Hanzo stepped around him. This had been pointless. “Possibly,” he lied. “Thank you, Zenyatta. I appreciate the advice, even if it is quite far-fetched.”

As he began to leave, Zenyatta spoke again. “I believe you need him, Hanzo. He balances you. And I would dare even say he needs you, as well.”

Hanzo stayed still for a moment, rolling that thought in his mind. Casting aside concern of himself was one thing, but when Jesse’s well-being might also be at stake... He looked over his shoulder and nodded once. “Again, thank you, Zenyatta.”

With that, he hurriedly stepped out of the club and into the fresh daytime air. He had a lot to think about, now.   

 

Upon arriving back to base, he immediately checked the roster. Jack Morrison was marked as a return, but Jesse’s name was not on the list. That was strange. He checked the other’s dormitory, as well as his own, looking to see if he had forgotten to check in during a moment of absent-mindedness. That would not be unlike him, after all.

When he was nowhere to be found, Hanzo turned back toward Winston’s office to see if perhaps he was in the process of being debriefed, or maybe even unloading the supplies they had went to collect. Just as he raised his hand to press the buzzer, the door slid open.

“Mister Shimada.”

Hanzo looked at the gorilla who was staring at him with a furrowed brow over his glasses. “Hello. I was coming to see if anyone had a status check on Jess-- Agent McCree.”

“Well? That is what we are attempting to find out.”

Hanzo frowned a touch. “What do you mean?”

From behind Winston, Jack Morrison’s voice spoke up. “What he means is that he snuck off. He’s not answering his comm and we’re trying to locate him. Irresponsible…disappearing right at the end of a task.”

Winston cleared his throat. “Perhaps not the best description of the current situation but, yes.”

Hanzo’s fists balled at his sides. He knew it. He’d felt it this morning. Something had happened. Jesse was missing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AMAZING artwork, as usual, is brought to you by the talented [JMNP-art](http://jmnp-art.tumblr.com/)! I am not worthy of her greatness. xoxo


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a doozy...  
> Thank you all for still being here. xo
> 
> If there are any typos (and I'm sure there are, I'll catch them eventually), I do apologize, as per usual! 
> 
> Warnings: PTSD nightmares. Slight battle violence and medical dramatics. Nothing too graphic.

 

_“Oh, turpentine erase me whole_  
_I don’t want to live my life alone_  
_I was waiting for you, all my life_  
_Oh, why?_  
_Set me free, my honeybee.”_

 

 

The days ticked by like a metronome and by the following week, Jesse still had not returned to base, nor had anyone managed to contact him by any measure. Hanzo found himself continuously pacing the expanse of his dormitory, often for hours at a time. When he grew tired of looking at his own drab walls, he would quietly wander into Jesse’s room and resume his fruitless strides.

During one particularly insomniac night, he curled up on the other man’s bed. His eyes closed as he took in a deep breath, able to pick up Jesse’s lingering scent on his pillow. Somehow it was comforting, yet made his chest clench at the same time. Were it not for his plaguing sense of worry and dread, he could almost imagine that the ridiculous cowboy was right there and that everything had returned to the comfortable state that he had grown so used to. _Almost_. No matter how much he tried, there was no way he could successfully fabricate the way the other man folded up behind him as they slept, resting behind him with his arms around Hanzo. They fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly that it was borderline unnerving.

After a fitful two hours of broken rest, Hanzo awoke and emerged from Jesse’s room. He hadn’t managed satisfactory sleep since Jesse had vanished and he knew it was reluctantly beginning to show. There were bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead had likely begun to leave creases. He made an effort to avoid others due to the fact that his concern had left his mood sour and he was more harsh than usual when others attempted to address him, even if it was to offer empty comforts that everything would be alright- Hana and Lúcio were the culprits of that. Ana and Winston would pass him sympathetic, but warm smiles. They did not give him the same words of solace, however. They were soldiers and deep down, they knew that everything was _not_ always “alright.”  

By the time the second week began, Hanzo was practically drifting on his feet. Reluctantly, he found himself in Angela Ziegler’s medical bay, inquiring about a sleeping aid so he could actually find some satisfactory rest.

The medic was oddly silent, her feature neutral and emotionless as she performed a mandatory check on his vital statistics. She jotted something down on a tablet, then pulled open a drawer, sorting through some carefully sealed bottles. As Hanzo managed to catch a side-long glance at her, he realized that she, too, looked just as exhausted as he did. Was she equally as concerned about Jesse? The prospect of that unsettled him even more than before.

He averted his eyes and idly panned around the room. On the table beside him sat the stacks of medical charts that Dr. Ziegler had placed there when collecting Hanzo’s. Aside from the previous incident, he rarely found himself in here, so his folder was slim, containing barely more than the mandatory information required from all of them. There were a few, however, that looked thick enough to be novels.

He cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “I am surprised you have not converted these records over to digital storage.”

She peered over her shoulder, her expression flickering, as if debating on whether or not she should pull the charts from his reach. Her distrust quickly diminished and she set her focus back to preparing him a bottle of small pills to grant him his medically-induced stupor. “I have considered it. Anything digital can be hacked, however. Should our files fall into the wrong hands…” Her voice trailed off and he nodded, understanding the implication.

“Truthfully,” she continued, her voice tired. “Even if this establishment were to burst into flames, I would rather they be lost to ashes within it.”

A morbid perspective, but it made sense. “Of course.” His eyes scanned her back and he leaned over to gain a closer view of the little manila folder tabs. They were in alphabetical order, so it was not difficult to see the one he was most curious of – _Jesse McCree._ Jesse’s folder was as much a novel as some of the others, at least an inch thick. The temptation was strong to open it and see what secrets it contained. Perhaps it would give him a better idea of…

“Mister Shimada.”

He snapped to attention and looked up at Dr. Ziegler. He expected to find himself staring into a look of annoyance, but there was none. Her face still seemed drained and he could now see the similar creases in her brow that he was sporting, himself.   

“My apologies.” He folded his hands in his lap and lowered his head. “I…”

She shook her head in silence and slowly picked up the files, moving them over to the sterily clean counter top. Apparently her trust in him was now wary.  He couldn’t blame her, though. If she had exited the room, he could not promise that he would not have opened the folder to see what information was inside of it.

A small bottle of pills was handed to him and he took it, unable to look away from them, though he wasn’t actually looking _at_ them.

“Just one a night.” She moved to sit on the surface where the charts had previously been. “Two, only if one does not suffice after several hours.”

Hanzo nodded mechanically. He knew he should stand and leave now, but his feet felt as heavy as lead weights in his boots.  His muscles tensed to stand up, but the action never happened. “I do not suppose that…”

“No,” Dr. Ziegler said. “Unfortunately, there is nothing else I can give you.”

His brow furrowed. “No. I was…that is…” He cleared his throat again, still unable to look at her as the volume of his voice dropped. “There is no way to trace the circuits of his prosthetic, or anything of that sort?” He knew it was a shot in the dark and that if it were possible, it would have likely already been done, but he _had_ to inquire.

“There is not. Jesse’s arm is of old Blackwatch era technology that I no longer even have access to; nor anyone, for that matter.”

He nodded again.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shimada,” she whispered. A moment of silence hung between them, but there was no awkwardness in it's wake. In fact, there was a sort of calm understanding in it. They were both equally worried. Finally, she spoke again. “You should get some rest. And some nutrition. I will not pester to ask when you have properly eaten, last.”

A third nod and Hanzo finally rose up. His body scolded him for the action, wanting to remain stationary. “Thank you. I do appreciate this.” As he turned to leave the medical bay, a hand found his arm, feather-light. He looked back to see the doctor watching him, a false but soft smile on her face.

“Jesse is a stubborn man, “ she offered gently. “He has his own demons that he rivals with. He is also a free spirit. Give him some time and we will find him.”   

  

 

After consuming what few bites of food he could muster, Hanzo successfully fell asleep in his own bed, tumbling the doctor’s words around in his head. The next morning came all too soon, however. The long drawn-out beeping from his comm link roused him around 8 AM.

Just like that, the team’s usual routine circulated into motion. A small and likely temporary Talon base of operations had been uncovered within reasonable distance from their own headquarters. The risk of being discovered paired with the usual alarm of danger that clouded the unruly organization whenever it surfaced was enough to send them into action without hesitation.

There had barely been enough time for Hanzo to down a slightly-too-hot cup of tea and shove a couple nutritional bars into his belt pouch before Jack Morrison was ushering the lot of them out of the base and into the transportation unit.  

Though he had grasped onto a few hours of sleep, Hanzo still felt as if he was floating through the mechanical routines with his head full of cotton. Dr. Ziegler equipped them all with medical provisions, small pouches with emergency supplies, lectured them all about this and that, then they boarded the shuttle and Hanzo found his usual seat in last row with his back to the wall.

Genji and Zenyatta bustled in and sat directly in front of him. Hanzo couldn’t help but find himself watching them as they whispered amongst themselves. Irrationally, part of him was annoyed when he heard his brother’s laughter. Inside, he knew that Jesse’s absence was probably bothering him as well- after all, they had been through more together than Jesse and himself had. Regardless, the sound of his cheer angered Hanzo. How could they be happy when this was happening? How was it fair?

He did his best to shove the emotionally-driven thoughts aside and focus on the mission at hand. The Talon “base” turned out to be a building that appeared to be an abandoned factory. The second they made their practiced charge, several dozen agents greeted them with plasma guns and wildly open fire. Hanzo’s arrows immediately found their marks as bodies fell around them. Jack Morrison shouted commands, directing them where to go and calling out their enemies positions.

Scaling a wall to perch on an outcropping beam, Hanzo used the vantage point to take out a couple attempting to flank his peers. They collapsed to the ground before they could even cause the most minimal injury. Normally, Hanzo would feel a secret sense of pride in the accomplishment, but right now he was just _numb_.

There was no Reaper, no Widowmaker, no code named familiar faces to be seen on this base, just unrecognized soldiers and mercenaries. The lack of command and strategy spoke highly that they hadn’t anticipated an invasion. This was not a military op. These agents were fighting for their lives, rather than intent to make the first advance.

“Sweep the building,” Morrison directed as they scoured the lifeless bodies, looking for orders or hints as to what Talon’s movements might be. “Make sure there aren’t any stragglers.”

Ana Amari lurked at the edge of the large echoing room, scoping like a hawk. Their voices echoed off the warehouse-like walls. “If any are still alive, we will take them into custody for questioning.” 

The sight off so many bodies left an unpleasant taste in Hanzo’s mouth, but it was difficult to take any other action when their foes fired first. His eyes scanned the carnage, then he bobbed his head once in acknowledgment and nocked an arrow into Stormbow before progressing down one of the wide halls. He didn’t particularly care for splitting up, but it was evident that the worst of their threat was over.

If anyone else remained on the base, it seemed as though they had fled. Most of the empty and dank rooms still appeared to be untouched. Production machinery sat with cobwebs, flecks of dust flickering in the air as they caught in the beams of morning sun the spilled through ruddy windows. Upon further inspection, Hanzo came to the conclusion that this factory must have, at one point in time, been one for medical equipment for hospitals and medical institutions.

He stepped silently through one door, alert as could be while he peered about. This room looked to be one of the few that had been in recent use. A burnt out hologram projector sat in front of a whiteboard. While the device was dead, there were still patterns and plans written on the board, others tacked to it with magnetic pins.

There was a sub-par sketch of a body drawn with marker pen. Certain points on it’s form, mainly along the spine, were starred or marked with jotted medical notes. Hanzo could make nothing of the barbaric images, but he was certain this was something that Dr. Zeigler would be interested in seeing. He slung Stormbow over his shoulder and pulled his phone out to take a handful of pictures, trying to capture every detail possible. The dim lighting in the room made certain angles difficult to photograph, but it was all still readable with a proper zoom.

He slid the phone back into his pouch and gazed around the area once more. As his eyes landed on the IV stand and other items, the realization dawned on him- this was a make-shift examination bay. An inexplicable shiver crawled up his back.

There were several doors aligning the back wall- one was an airlock the appeared to have been recently opened. Obviously, whoever had been in here had managed to flee in a rush.  An open filing cabinet hinted that whatever medical files had been kept here were also taken with the escapee.

‘ _Agent Hanzo, what’s your status?’_

Jack Morrison’s voice buzzed in his ear and it nearly startled him. “The west corridor is empty.” He cupped his own ear as he spoke, eyes narrowing while he continued exploring. “I found a side room that looks as if it were used for medical purposes.”

‘ _Roger that. Amari will be headed in your direction shortly. Keep your wits about you.’_

“Always.”

The comm went silent and the only sound Hanzo could hear was his own breath. His sights fell on the medical sketches again. He momentarily wished this was in his realm of knowledge to understand. The writing was that script that seemed to be a secret language for anyone with a doctoral degree, barely even decipherable to the normal eye. One word caught his attention though…

His eyes widened and his heart felt like it dropped into the pit of his stomach. At the bottom of the whiteboard was a “paragraph” of written notes. Amid the chicken-scratch was one combination of scribbles that he recognized.

_McCree._

“Jesse.” His pulse started to race and he turned from the board, gawking around with a new sense of urgency. Was it possible that Jesse had been here? Might _still_ be here? “Jesse!”

No response came. He ran over to the open airlock and peered down nothing but an empty dark hall. Stepping back into the room, he looked over to the other door. Without hesitation, Hanzo ran over and all but threw it open.

The next few moments happened in a blur. The room was empty, aside from two gurneys and a large table pressed against the far side. There was a heart monitoring machine that sat unplugged, but it seemed cleaner and alien in comparison to everything else, as if it has been brought in for a purpose.

Hanzo hardly noticed it, though. What he _did_ notice was the man resting on one of the gurneys. He nearly tripped over his feet as he ran to his side. He looked as if he were asleep, calm and peaceful, but Hanzo’s pulse was pounding so hard he thought his chest would burst.

He slammed on his comm faster than he ever had before in his life. “This is Hanzo! Someone, send a medic, quickly! I have found McCree!”

 

 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

 

_“I don’t know what you expect me to do with him?”_

_The voice that spoke beside him uttered more question than statement in its tone. Jesse knew exactly who it was, though- Gabriel Reyes._

_The man stood proud in his Blackwatch ops uniform. Even standing casually, his pose was stoic and intimidating, yet there was a glimmer of a fondness beneath brown eyes that usually was only reserved for the peers he actually gave a damn about._

_Jesse was confused. Were they talking about him? He was already a fully enlisted member of Blackwatch; had been for years. Why would…?_

_“Who knows why he is here? Perhaps we’ll let some of the younger lads take care of him and see if they can make him talk. Agent McCree, perhaps?”_

_Another voice. So, there weren’t actually talking about him._

_“What’s going on?” His own voice sounded distant, even to himself._

_Everyone appeared to ignore his question as bodies bustled around him, murmuring amongst themselves. He started to grow annoyed. What weren’t they telling him?_

_“Hey! Someone answer me!”_

_Reyes looked at him, finally. “Ah, Jesse. Here. You take care of this.”_

_He stepped up and handed something over- Jesse’s brow furrowed as the cold metal weapon pressed into his palm. Peacekeeper? What were they doing with his gun? Why hadn’t he had it on himself in the first place?_

_Before any of his questions could be vocalized, he was being ushered down a hall. They turned amid various corridors and Jesse glanced inside open doors as they passed them by. Hostages were being interrogated within them, disregards for any privacy for passersby. Were they on a temp Blackwatch base? Odd that he didn’t remember coming here. Someone screamed in from a room behind them and the sound send a chill right up Jesse’s spine. It seemed to jolt through him, making his skin tingle. That was strange..._

_“In there,” Reyes pointed, a hand on Jesse’s shoulder as he directed them to a closed doorway. “Make him talk, however you need to.”_

_“Sure thing, boss.” He tipped his hat to him. He was good at this job. Sure, it may not have been the most pleasant or moral, but his talent for drawing secrets out of their foes hadn’t gone unnoticed._

_“Really,” Reyes muttered, looking at him with a more serious expression. “Whatever means necessary.”_

_A single brow rose on Jesse’s forehead as he watched the superior walk away. Everyone was acting so out of sorts and he had no idea why._

_Another tingle sparked at the back of his neck and it drew his attention back to the mission at hand. He rolled his shoulders in their pivots and shrugged it off. Far be for him to pry at another man’s secrets._

_He grasped the doorknob and stepped into the interrogation room. His eyes scanned the premises, then bunched in confusion. At the far end of the rusted metal table sat an empty chair. There didn’t seem to be anyone in here. Could they have sent him to the wrong room?_

_“Huh. Damn. Everyone’s actin’ all loco today. What the hell?”_

_He shrugged and turned to leave, but the door slammed shut in his face. Behind it stood a man, tattered ropes around his wrist that showed of his ramshackle escape from his chair-bound position. He stared at Jesse with red eyes that shot through him like daggers, almost like the arrow that was pointed at his chest in apparent wait for its wielder’s ambush._

_“H-Hanzo?” Jesse’s voice choked out. He didn't remember Hanzo's eyes being red. “What the crap are you doin’ here, darlin?”_

_The archer’s gaze narrowed, burning hot and full of hostility. His voice hissed. “How do you know my name?”_

_Jesse stared at the arrow tip, still alert and pointed at him. Slowly, he raised both hands in the air, his right one still holding Peacekeeper. How peculiar that it actually felt heavy in his palm. “Uh, what’s wrong, honeybee? You can lower the bow now…”_

_Hanzo laughed, though the sound was anything but joyful- sharp and lathered with venom. “Do you think me so foolish? Put your own weapon down first, gunslinger.”_

_“Eh? Okay, darlin.” He was so confused, but he wasn’t about to argue when there was an arrow steadied at him, point blank. Jesse turned slowly to set Peacekeeper on the table…then froze._

_Oh. So, that’s why it had felt so heavy. His arm…_

_“What are you doing? Turn to face me.”_

_Jesse was frozen, though, staring at the flesh of his arm where the mechanical one usually was. His chest tightened. Was he dreaming?_

_“I said, turn around!” The bowstring tightened, creaking._

_“Hanzo! Wait!” The gun clattered on the table as he dropped it, the sound echoing along the walls as it toppled off the table. When it hit the floor, the gunshot ricocheted through his eardrums. He clamped his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tightly. Someone was screaming again._

_Another jolt of electricity shot through his spine and he gasped in a deep breath as it knocked the wind out of him._

“Jesse!”

He sat up, frantically grabbing at whatever he could. His fist found fabric and he gripped a handful of it tightly, his vision spinning.

“Jesse,” a voice whispered, as warm as honey. It soothed his soul and warmed him, going straight to his head.

“You are safe, Jesse.” There is was again. A hand was on his cheek now. He could feel the cold sweat on his skin, the fingertips hot like fire where they touched him. “I’m here. It was a dream.”

His vision began focusing and Jesse found himself gazing into a pair of beautiful amber hues. And hell, they were more beautiful than ever, right now, even laced with worry as they pinned on him. _Not red._ “Hanzo…”

A tiny little light flicked into Jesse’s eyes and he flinched as the shape of Angela Ziegler obstructed the other man. She stared intently, all seriousness as she checked his vitals. “Lay back down, Jesse.”

He did as instructed, staring at the ceiling while the doctor fussed over him, checking his pulse and other stats. What was he even doing here? Had he been injured? He cleared his throat and it felt raw with soreness. “What happened?”

“We were hoping you could answer that.” Hanzo’s voice sounded almost weary. Jesse wondered how long he’d been sitting there at his bedside.

Dr. Ziegler interrupted. “Yes, later. I need to perform some tests to make sure you are properly stabilized. _Then_ you will be debriefed.”

“Right. Sure.” He shut his eyes and went still as she did as needed. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal, though the curiosity plagued at him, nagging incessantly. _What the hell had happened?_


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is the last full chapter. That fact is giving me a variety of feelings. I'll likely ramble a little about them in the end notes of the next "chapter," which will be an epilogue.  
> I hope you know you're all wonderful and I adore every one of you! Your feedback has been amazing and kept me fueled through this whole thing! ^^ 
> 
> Warnings: Discussion of PTSD, discussion of body modifications, and sexual content (I know a lot of you wanted it!) ;)  
> Enjoy!
> 
> * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

_“Blue moon;_  
Now I'm no longer alone,  
Without a dream in my heart,  
Without a love of my own”

(Blue Moon ~ Frank Sinatra)

 

 

 

Hanzo stared into the cup while he whisked the green powdered tea through the heated milk until it held a thin frothing on top. The smell was warm and inviting, leading him into a false sense of comfort.

“C’mon, Angie? I can’t even have one cupa’ coffee?”

“No,” the doctor replied, sternly. “Too much caffeine. After we finish our analyses, _then_ you may return to your vices.”

Jesse’s foot was twitching, the lack of coffee was obviously annoying, but that in combination with his temporary smoking ban? He was downright irritable, at times.  It had hardly been less than a day since he was released from the med bay and he had been asleep for much of that time, still riding out the sedatives they had given him, but now he was awake and with a voice more whiny than a five year old who was told they couldn’t have dessert.

“My _vices_ are what keep me goin’, Ang! Shouldn’t ya’ be studyin’ me compared to how I usually am, anyhow?”

The doctor ignored his drawling and Hanzo simply rolled his eyes. With a breathless sigh, he picked up the mug of tea and stepped over to where the cowboy was seated at the table, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” Jesse gawked into the cup of green liquid with a perplexed look on his face.

“Matcha. Just drink it.”

“This got any caffeine in it?”

“No,” he lied, passing Jesse a sly look to hint to him not to dwell on the matter. Sure, there was caffeine in it, but it wasn’t even half the amount that he knew Jesse would normally consume in his oversized morning coffee cup.  

Dr. Ziegler flashed Hanzo a frown that implied that she might have sensed the lack of authenticity of his answer, but whether she suspected it or not, she didn’t object and simply continued with her work, placing tiny little wireless electrodes to the bare skin of Jesse’s back.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, clearly not pleased to go without hi morning ‘joe,’ but still begrudgingly grateful. He sipped from the cup, made an unusual expression, then sat it on the table while he sucked in a sharp breath in response to the cold steel from one of the pads making contact on his shoulders. “Woah! Give a man some warning!”

“The fact that I am standing here should be warning enough for you, Jesse McCree,” the doctor stated.

He pursed his lips at the maternal usage of his name in such a tone and nodded his head obediently before going still to presumably make the task easier for her. “So,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “What’ve ya' learned?”

Dr. Ziegler shot another glance to Hanzo, then focused back to her patient. “We should discuss it later.”

Hanzo mouth quirked in disappointment, but he understood. Jesse, however, was not so keen to give in to that. “C’mon, Ang. Ain’t nothin’ you’d be tellin’ me that I wouldn’t end up telling my honeybee, anyhow.”

Hanzo had to admit- the outright statement of such an open trust was a bit heartwarming. He leaned back against the countertop, arms crossed over his chest. He had contemplated leaving the room to give them some privacy, but Jesse’s words selfishly enticed him to stay.

“Jesse, unless you give permission for Mr. Shimada to have access to _any_ of your records, I cannot disclose--“

“That’s fine.”

Both Dr. Ziegler and Hanzo froze, taken aback by the response. Hanzo’s brow furrowed as he recollected himself. “Jesse?”

Jesse shrugged, looking at the floor. “Hey, whatever. I mean, yer’ kinda’ a significant part of my life now, right? So, it’d make sense for ya’ to have access to all that crap.”

Before Hanzo could reply to that, Dr. Ziegler cut in once again. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to agree so unhastily. “This is very unconventional, Jesse. Our regulations directly state that such information _should_ only be accessible to immediate family or spouses.”

The lack of nicotine finally developed a voice and Jesse scowled, visually growing frustrated with the conversational roadblock. “Fine! Han? Say you’ll marry my dumb ass or somethin' so this bullshit won’t be an issue anymore.”

Hanzo stared at him, his brain taking an extra moment or two to process what was just barked in his direction. His heart lurched, but he managed to choke it back, noting the fact that what he’d heard had only been spoken for file permissions; something that would never be followed through. “I… Very well.”

The doctor made a hushed gasp and looked between them. A hand rose over her mouth and her eyes were wide. Hanzo flushed and looked away, staring at the refrigerator as if it were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.        

“There ya’ go, doc.” Jesse flailed hand toward Hanzo. “Fiancé count as family? Ya’ just witnessed it yourself.”

Her cheeks seem to pinken. “Yes, I suppose so, but Jesse? Are you certain this is--“

“Angie, _c’mon_!” The whine was loud enough that it nearly made Hanzo cringe.

An awkward silence filled the room. Hanzo dropped his gaze to the floor, Jesse stared expectantly at his doctor, who in turn was looking between the two of them. Finally, with an exhale of obvious defeat, she stepped over to the counter and picked up Jesse’s file that she had brought along, hesitantly opening it up. “Mr. Shimada?”  He hand gestured to the seat beside Jesse. “If you would like to take a seat, I will fill you in on what has theoretically lead us to this event.”

Once the other man was seated at the table, Dr. Ziegler prodded through the mountain of papers, as if trying to decide where to begin. The sudden seriousness of the matter was beginning to concern Hanzo.

“I am uncertain to how much of his past that Jesse has shared with you, so I will attempt to summarize.” Her eyes scanned another page as she began. “As you are no doubt aware of, Mr. Shimada, the side effects of years of active duty can take their toll on a person, both physically and mentally.”

“Of course.” That was to be expected of any veteran, as far as Hanzo was concerned.  

“Unfortunately, one of the effects the post traumatic stress disorder has brought on for Jesse is chronic nightmares. He has been under treatments for it for a very long time, now.”

Hanzo looked to Jesse who was currently focused on his mug of tea, perhaps trying to block out the conversation. He wanted to reach over and take his hand, but resisted the urge to help him uphold his dignity. “I see. What sort of treatments?”

Dr. Ziegler again brisked through the papers. “We tried everything that we were capable of- medications, sleep studies with follow up therapy courses, receptor machines.” She seemed to frown at the reminder of her lack of success on the matter. “After all of it, his condition only seemed to worsen. I regret to say that I have never managed to find a remedy.”

“Ain’t yer’ fault, Ang. My head’s just messed up. The sleeping pills worked well enough for ‘bout a year, at least.”

A soft sigh escaped her lips. “You are not _messed up_ , Jesse.”

Whether or not he believed her or took any solace in her words, Jesse just shrugged and drank more of his tea. Hanzo could see a variety of emotions crossing the others face, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what they were; mental exhaustion? Regret? Guilt? Why would there be _guilt_?

“Anyhow,” Dr. Ziegler went on with her previous point. Her mouth formed a firm line, clearly displeased with what she was about to explain. “At this time, we are uncertain, but it is theorized that in desperation, Jesse may have sought out other methods of treatment, seeking aide where we could not grant it to him; perhaps with…less than reputable organizations.”

Hanzo froze. _What?_ He looked to Jesse, then back to the doctor. “What do you imply by _theorized_?”

“I don’t remember.” Jesse’s grin was flat and wry. “Ain’t got no memory of what happened.”

A twinge of worriment snapped through the archer. “No memory? What do you mean?”

Jesse tapped his fingertips idly on the tabletop. “Just what I said. I haven’t a damn idea as to what went down or why I went there. Don’t have no signs of resistance on me, so whatever it was, don’t think there was a fight. There’s also a chunk a’ cash out of my account, so I mighta’ even paid for it. They did somethin’ to me that Ang has been tryin’ to sort out.”

Hanzo’s eyes followed his movements as Jesse reached up and touched the small bandage that was secured on the back of his neck. It had been there when he’d found him in that dreaded room. The fact that it was still there had alarmed him, but he hadn’t wanted to pry into the matter while everything was still being analyzed. 

“There is a device that was implanted along his spine. We have been doing our best to run tests to figure out what its purpose is and if it contained any threat to _Jesse_.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed at the way she said his name. By ‘Jesse,’ he knew she was also indicating Overwatch as a whole. “So remove it. Eliminate the threat and rid him of such a possibility.” Misdirected anger combined with concern was beginning to boil in the pit of his stomach.

Her head shook, slowly. “We cannot; not easily, at least. The device is melded into his thoracic vertebrae. To remove it entirely would mean intensive surgery to remove the segment of bone and replace it with an internal prosthetic. Until we know for certain, I would like to keep Jesse from having to go through such a procedure.”

Even though the unease was cooking into disquiet, Hanzo nodded, unable to take his eyes off of Jesse. “Do you have any leads as to what its purpose is?”

The doctor’s face actually seemed to light up. “Yes! That is part of what I wanted to explain here today.” Jesse and Hanzo both focused their attention on her as she pulled out a few pages of medical notes. “Obviously, we do not know with pure certainty, but it would seem, thus far, that the device is harmless in the long run.”

Jesse visibly slumped in his seat, relief crossing his tired features. “Aw, thank hell. What else ya’ got on it?”

Dr. Ziegler was in full professional mode, now. “You see, signals to the brain are transmitted through neurons. It is what makes us react to certain situations- in your particular case- chronic night terrors. When neurotransmitters trigger the reaction, the ‘message’ travels through a system of axon terminals to create the excitatory signal.”

Jesse’s mouth quirked. “Uh, right.”

She waved a hand, dismissing his confusion. “It would seem that the device implanted in your spinal column was created to derail the electrical charge from the neurotransmitters to the receptors. In the event that your neurons are stimulated in a certain manner, it will intervene.”

Hanzo was listening intently, but Jesse began to gape. “Alright, Ang, yer’ losin’ me here.”

An exasperated heavy breath. “When your nightmares grow too intense, the technology will recognize it and give you a small electrical shock to redirect it your subconscious thoughts.”

Both men were silent for a short period, as if waiting for more. Jesse cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “So…that’s it?”

“That does not seem so bad,” Hanzo mused aloud.

“ _If_ that is all it is capable of. It does not alleviate the point that it was a device implanted into Jesse’s body by Talon specialists. I will be monitoring him very closely for quite some time to make sure that there is no ulterior motive.”

Jesse’s smile took on a charming lilt. “Because yer’ an angel, doc. Always takin’ care of lil’ ol’ me.”

Dr. Ziegler closed the folder, then bopped him over the top of the head with it, hard enough to make him flinch. “If that were the case, you would not have made the effort to seek out medical assistance with back alley arrangements. I will remember this, Jesse.”

He winced and nodded, then went silent as she went about checking the readings from the electrodes and gathered information on his vital stats. She spoke not another word to either until she was finished and closed his files.

“You will remain on medical leave until I can confirm your safety. Until that time, rest and avoid anything that might overexert your body.” The doctor paused, then give Hanzo a _look_ that made him flush, briefly. “I know you will not listen to me, but do well to avoid your smoking and coffee intake.”

“M’ drinkin’ tea, see?” Jesse held up the cup and grinned, as if that fact should earn him some praise. “It’s weird, though. And green. _Really_ green.” He looked into the cup, eyeing the bright contents, then snickered to himself. “Genji juice.”

Angela blinked and Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Well, I _used to_ enjoy matcha. Thank you for that, Jesse.”

 

 

Doctor Ziegler departed the room about ten minutes later, leaving behind a written list of instructions for Jesse to follow- a list that he promptly used as a coaster as soon as she was out of sight.

Hanzo set to work on making Jesse some oatmeal so he could take the medications that had been left for him, then washed the dishes in the sink, using the peace to let his mind wander. Part of him was furious that Jesse would put himself in such a position- if, in fact, that had been the case. They had never touched back on the incident from the winter alley, but the two situations combined made him wander. Amidst the anger, however, he also felt sympathy and a bit of pity. If Jesse had been suffering this entire time, not letting it outwardly to show anyone, enough that he were desperately seeking help elsewhere…then that was a serious shot to Hanzo’s heart. He felt mildly hurt that the man had never confided in him, but it was a passing selfishness. More than anything, he wanted to hold him, to keep him safe from his unease and protect him from all of it. Jesse was not one to be coddled, though, and Hanzo was aware for that.

By the time Hanzo had dried the dishes and put them away in their proper places, Jesse was beginning to slump in his seat. The medicines, along with the physical stress of everything he had recently endured, were obviously still wearing on him.

“Come,” Hanzo said softly, stepping over and hooking his arm under Jesse’s to help him up, even if he didn’t really need the assistance. “You should rest.”

Jesse groaned, but stood when urged to. “Darlin’, I’m _so_ tired of restin’.”

With a quiet chuckle, Hanzo lead him down the short hall and into his room. “You will be back to your usual and infuriating self in no time, Jesse.”

“You make me sound like such a charmer, honeybee.”

Hanzo smiled and just guided him to his bedroom, taking a moment to straighten the bedding before Jesse shed his clothing, down to his boxers, and crawled onto the blankets. Out of politeness, Hanzo averted his eyes, but was guilty of sneaking a glance or two out of his peripheral vision. The temptation to admire the man was strong and his willpower only ran _so_ strong.

As he was about to step away from the bed, an arm looped around Hanzo’s waist and dragged him downward. He found himself colliding against Jesse with a grunt of surprise. 

“Now where do you think yer’ goin’?”

Brows drawn together, Hanzo ogled at Jesse. His palm was rested on his chest and he was unable to notice the feel of the other’s chest hair under his fingertips. “I…do not know. I should leave you to relax, though.”

“I _am_ relaxed.” Resting his head back on the pillows, Jesse pulled the archer the rest of the way on top of himself, hugging him close in muscled and metal arms so that he couldn’t escape.

A smile played at the edges of Hanzo’s lips. “Jesse, you are a ridiculous man.”

“Yeah, fer’ _you._ ” He chuckled and reached up to gently tug at the gold scarf that held Hanzo’s hair in its high pristinely perfect ponytail, nudging it until it gave away and left his hair falling around his face in a curtain as black as an oil slick.  

A hand rested on Hanzo’s cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “You and your silver-tongued words.”

“Well, ya’ know I’m good with my tongue, darlin’.” Jesse smirked up at him, playfully.

Hanzo resisted the urge to groan. “Leave it to you to destroy a pleasant moment with your insinuating statements.”

Jesse laughed, his hands starting to drift along the other man’s back. “Would ya’ expect anything less of me?”

“No,” Hanzo admitted without qualm. An eyebrow rose as he felt his clothing being undone. “Jesse. You are supposed to be resting.”  

“M’supposed to be doin’ a lotta’ things.” In a sweep of motion, he rolled them over, pinning the Hanzo beneath him. Hanzo balked at him with momentary surprise, then just shook his head, though there was no verbal objection.

“God, yer’ gorgeous.” Jesse sighed as he looked down at him, smiling. “Still don’t know what the hell I did in life to deserve you.”

“Jesse…” Hanzo felt his cheeks burning at the sudden excess focus on him. He looked away with a hint of embarrassment, but his breath suddenly quivered as he felt lips on his neck. A sound of approval slipped from him as his eyes slowly fell shut.

“My darlin’.” Jesse placed a trail of kisses up the path of his throat. They grazed along his jaw and then to his ear where the other’s voice purred. “My beautiful blue dragon.”

Hanzo cheeks felt beet red now, his body responding to arch against the hands that were exploring him, undressing him. It wasn’t until he was bare, aside from his pants- which were already being removed- that enough of his mind returned to speak. “Jesse, you are still recovering.” His voice didn’t come out nearly as stern as he had hoped.

“Yep.”

The pants slid down his hips and he lifted them just so to assist. “This is unwise.”

“Yep.”

 The last of Hanzo’s clothing was kicked off the bed as it fell over his foot. He opened his mouth to give another unconvincing line of disapproval, but it was instantly met with Jesse’s. He kissed him thoroughly, intently even, until he managed to pull away and catch a breath. “You were told no frivolous activity.”

Jesse’s eyes drifted open and he gazed down at him. “I ain’t plannin’ on bein’ that ‘frivolous,’ darlin’.”

“Oh.” What more could he really say to that? Hanzo stared upward at the other. While he had always noticed before, for the first time, he felt as though he were truly _s_ _eeing_ Jesse. Mahogany locks of hair fell over his forehead, wild and unbrushed. They weren’t so long that he couldn’t admire those deep cinnamon-brown eyes that were watching him, lovingly. There were worry-lines marked into the creases of his brow and around his eyes, indenting his tawny skin and marked there for years to come. Right now, though, his smile soft and genuine, he seemed content... Hanzo didn’t want to resist him any longer.

The hand between his legs elicited a groan from Hanzo’s lips and he tilted his head back, surrendering to whatever Jesse was willing to offer him. The prep was never an unpleasant sensation, but rather a mild discomfort that he still found a guilty sense of enjoyment in.

As Jesse moved into him, his breath hitched and he all but clung to him. There were kisses and nibbles all along his neck and ear, actions that he was grateful of while his body adapted.

“Look at you,” Jesse hummed in praise, tongue trailing along the shell of his ear. “Amazing… I really don’t deserve you, Han, but I sure as hell ain’t gonna’ turn it away.”  

Hanzo’s jaw clenched as his pulse started to rise, beginning to pound in his chest as they moved, his own body trying desperately to match whatever pace the other lead. “J-Jesse?”

“Yeah, honeybee?”

He rested a hand on the back of Jesse’s head and murmured a breathy, “shut up,” before he pulled him in for another kiss.

Jesse was right. Aside from heart rate’s pounding so hard that they made eardrums echo, there was nothing frivolous about the act. It was slow and sensual, accented by deep meaningful kisses. Even at the end, when Hanzo was left gasping and mewling Jesse’s name until they both reached their inevitable climax, it was still somehow tender and…

“I love you, Han.” Jesse rested his forehead against Hanzo’s, looking down into the other’s eyes. “So damn much.”

Were it not already soaring, Hanzo’s heart would have literally skipped a beat. He fought to catch his breath as he stared up at his reckless cowboy. A whirlwind of emotions crashed through him as the words sunk in. Had he just heard that correctly? _Yes_. He did. His brows knit as it processed. It was true. He knew it, even if he had been in denial. The others had been right, and he couldn’t ignore it. He glanced up into Jesse’s eyes, full of adoration, and finally whispered, nearly inaudible. “I love you, too, Jesse…”

The grin that crossed the cowboy’s lips was bright enough to light up the whole compound. He kissed Hanzo again, softly, then carefully moved to lie next to him as he pulled him close. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything,” Jesse, murmured, closing his eyes. “Just...everything.”

Hanzo chuckled quietly and folded himself into Jesse’s arms. “You’re welcome. Ridiculous man.”

Jesse smile grew, though tiredly. “Fer’ you…”


	17. Epilogue

 

 _"Blue moon,_  
_You knew just what I was there for,_  
_You heard me saying a pray for,_  
_Someone I really could care for"_

(Blue Moon ~ Frank Sinatra)

 

 

 

 

Hanzo walked through the dark halls of the base. They were still and silent, except for his strolling. It was shortly after midnight and his insomnia had lead him to this point, an act that was becoming more of a routine than he had ever intended.

Nearly a month had passed since Jesse’s unanticipated incident regarding the Talon medical procedures, but when no side effects showed themselves, except for the successful purpose of decreasing his chronic nightmares, Dr. Ziegler released him from his medical leave.

Jesse had been overjoyed for a number of reasons- the main being the disappearance of any threat to himself and those he cared for, the second being that he could finally return to the field and ease his cabin fever.

Tonight, Hanzo’s walk-about had a duel purpose. There was his usual restlessness combined with the anxiousness for his reckless cowman to come "home." Jesse never returned to his own room after Hanzo had found him and brought him back, except to slowly move more and more of his few possessions into Hanzo’s dormitory. He didn’t mind. In fact, the concept was welcoming.

He paused at the window he often found himself stopping at, looking out into the dark night. There was nothing to be seen, other than the moonlight over the horizon, but this was rarely done to appreciate the scenery. Thoughts stirred in his mind and he contemplated them, as usual, attempting to sort them out so that he could perhaps finally fall asleep.

“Darlin’?”

Hanzo smiled, still looking out the window. “You’ve returned.”

“Yep. All in one piece, too.”

He chuckled softly and turned to Jesse as he approached. He had a steaming mug in his hands and held it out to Hanzo. “Figured ya’d be out here on yer’ walk. Thought ya might want some tea.”

Hanzo took the mug and stared at it. He wasn’t certain how long it would take to grow used to the common act of such kind gestures, but it pleased him. “Thank you.”

“Mind if I join ya’?”

Instead of verbally responding, Hanzo held his mug in one hand and reached for Jesse’s with the other. Their fingers entwined as they walked in silence, just enjoying one another’s company. Eventually he knew Jesse would start rambling about the events that happened on the mission he had just attended, but he wouldn’t do such until they went back to the room… _their_ room.  The realization warmed Hanzo’s soul a bit. There was still one nagging thought, though.  “Jesse?”

“Yeah, honeybee?”

He took a sip of his tea while he considered the best way to approach his curiosity. “Do you remember the conversation with Dr. Ziegler?”

“Yeah, pretty sure. I mean, aside from all the medical mumbo-jumbo. Why?” He looked over at Hanzo from under the brim of his hat.

“Do you remember what was said to allow permission for me to learn of your medical history?”

A brief period of silence passed, then Jesse cleared his throat. “Uh, ‘course I do.”

Hanzo said nothing as he thought, taking another drink of his tea. It was perfect. Jesse always made his tea just the way he liked it.

Jesse was watching him now with obvious curiosity. “Why ya’ askin’ about that, Han?”

“No reason.”

The cowboy’s lips purse. “Sure. I believe that as much as a barrel a’ snakes.”

Hanzo chuckled quietly at the words. Less than a year ago, they would have annoyed him to no end. No, however, he found the odd dialect to be endearing.

Jesse stopped walking first, bringing Hanzo to a halt since their hands were still clasped. “Darlin’? You been thinkin’ about this or something’?”

“Perhaps.” Another sip of tea. “The long term idea is less revolting than I would have imagined.”

A soft snorting sound came from the taller man and he let go of Hanzo’s hand so he could wrap his arm around him. “Ya’ actually mean that? The idea of weddin’ down with an idiot like me doesn’t chase ya’ off?”

“No.” He turned his head away, staring idly out the closest window. “It would not be easy, but...” He trailed his words off, daring himself to admit it aloud. When he caught view of Jesse watching him, expectantly, he spoke softly. “I want it.”

Jesse smiled at him, leaning in close to place a kiss on Hanzo’s forehead. “Well, ya’ know I ain’t ever gonna’ deny ya’ somethin’ ya’ want, love. I’m all yers.’”    

“Good.” Jesse seemed to blush as Hanzo took his hand and raised it to his lips, kissing his metal knuckles, though the hall was dimly lit and he couldn’t be positive.

The idea of waking up next to someone who truly loved him every morning was heartwarming. He still wasn’t certain if this happiness was something he deserved, but he was no longer willing to deny it because of his own nervous paranoia. He _wanted_ to wake up to the smell of cigars and sleeping cowboy. He _wanted_ to fight over who would take the first shower or make breakfast. He even _wanted_ that embarrassing way his hair sometimes caught in the metal hinges of Jesse’s prosthetic hand, occasionally ripping out a few strands.  He usually did well not to bring attention to it, but he knew Jesse had seen him wince.

His nightly walks were no longer spent musing in regret and hatred. No, now he had other topics to occupy his mind with. The change was slowly healing him- perhaps healing them both. He needed Jesse, and he was even so bold to think that Jesse needed him in kind.

“So, Hanzo McCree or Jesse Shimada?”

Hanzo slowly shook his head and coiled his fingers back between Jesse’s where they belonged. “Neither.”

“Aww, honeybee.” Jesse pouted and walked with him. “That’s onea’ the best parts!”

Hanzo smiled, staring ahead as they lazily strolled. “We will discuss it later.”

“Mm'kay,” Jesse grinned, obviously satisfied. “That’ll do.”

“Yes,” Hanzo agreed, humming to himself. This certainly _would_ do.

 

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image by: [JMNP-art](http://jmnp-art.tumblr.com/)!  
> ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
> 
>  
> 
> I never intended for this fic to become a THING. I remember talking to [ruotaku2](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ruotaku2/profile) one evening. We were joking about writing fanfics and I said, "I'm gonna' do it."  
> Honestly, while I've received so much encouragement through this work, she has been my rock and my "Jesse" through the whole thing (even if I think I might have killed her from anxiety at various points.)
> 
> But seriously, ALL of you have been wonderful. And SO much thanks and respect to [JMNP-art](http://jmnp-art.tumblr.com/) and [blacksmiley](http://blacksmiley-c.tumblr.com/) for their beautiful art! If you haven't given their work a peek, I highly recommend doing so! 
> 
> Now, on the topic of the fic... Check Mate was specifically ended where it did for good reason. Through all the angst and drama, there's joy in a happy ending! I left it where it stands in case anyone wants to walk away with that pureness in mind and let these silly men have their happily ever after.  
> There IS going to be a sequel to this, but I will warn now- it's going to be very dark, intense, and I'll likely have to rate it E for a number of reasons. I'm undecided yet if I'll be connecting it to Check Mate with the "series" option because I'm considering giving it that separation. We'll see, though, based on feedback. If you're interested in following the next part of this journey, then toss a Subscribe on me or keep an eye out for Hello, Goodbye. The next one will be much more prepared for than Check Mate was, even if this one will always be my baby. ;) 
> 
> I also might be accepting beta readers for the next one, but again, I'm still in debate. If you're interested, go ahead and toss me a message over on [my Tumblr](http://dancingfox.tumblr.com/)! Due to the nature of the content in the sequel, I would prefer beta readers to be 18+. 
> 
> Thank you all SO much! It's been awesome!


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